


Needs Must

by Riddle_Me_This_Darling



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bisexual Jimmy, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Bottom Thomas, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Switch Jimmy, Switch Thomas, Top Jimmy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 106,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6911206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddle_Me_This_Darling/pseuds/Riddle_Me_This_Darling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All his life people had preached 'patience is a virtue' but Jimmy had never given a damn. What Jimmy wanted, Jimmy got and right now, Jimmy was desperate. Driven mad by his current dry spell, he just wanted an outlet - nothing less and certainly nothing more. He didn’t care for romance, not now. There would be time for all of that farce someday. Romance is daft anyway; it’s for poets, silly girls and...Well, Mr Barrow's lot he supposed.<br/>Jimmy was a lad, a proper man and he knew love was just a notion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. More Fitting For A Nymph-Like Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED NOTE:  
> I have edited this chapter and tweaked it a little bit
> 
> Good day or good evening or goodnight, depending on where you are.  
> This is my first ever published fanfiction so please be gentle if I make any silly errors or if my work is just simply not on par with other works on here.
> 
> The idea I had of Jimmy using Thomas as a sexual outlet is not original and I don't claim that it is.  
> I want the two of them to eventually fall in love but I am actually making up this story as I go along so I have no clear ending envisioned in my head.
> 
> Thank you for opening my story and I hope you enjoy it.

“Once upon a time in a small attic room, a young footman lay on his bed waiting for a young kitchen maid to knock on his door to rouse him from his slumber…but that won’t happen because the young footman is currently _wide awake at four in the bloody morning talking to himself like a loon from bedlam!_ ” Jimmy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 This was the fourth time this week that Jimmy had been unable to get a decent night’s sleep. His mood had become downright foul and other members of staff had begun to take notice. Carson had scolded him numerous times for his attitude, his facial expression and his moping stance. Alfred had smirked at him every time this happened and it worsened Jimmy’s mood as he wanted to wipe his pathetic smile off his freckled, ugly face with his fist. Jimmy had also heard Mrs Patmore quip to Mrs Hughes, “He’s worse than Thomas.”

 Jimmy was simply fed up. He was fed up of the disapproving glares he received from the senior staff. He was fed up of Alfred _and_ O’Brien alike. Most of all, Jimmy was fed up of _women_. When Jimmy worked had for Lady Anstruther, he always had a lay. The lady herself, the wild young maid, Jenny - even the local girls were always up for some good fun. Here at Downton, Jimmy couldn’t find one single girl who was up for a good time. Ivy and the other lasses in the village were as straight laced as the Dowager’s corsets; boring as heck. They all wanted a serious, long spanning romance that ended in marriage, routine and children. Jimmy for all his life just couldn’t understand the rush. They had their whole lives to get bloody married and settle down. Why were these girls so keen on the idea now? Why was nobody up for a good time and good laugh whilst they were young? If only Lady Rose was an option. Was it something in the water here or were the girls really just this dull? He had not had sex since he’d started working at Downton, the longest dry spell he had ever experienced which rather depressed him. He felt like a fourteen year old virgin again, desperate to experience the warmth of velvet skin, supple curves and soft tangles of flaxen curls. Fair girls had always been his preference and in Yorkshire there were no shortage of them but he could not blooming well entice one to bed. At present, all Jimmy could do was close his eyes and imagine a busty blonde on her knees for him or on her back with her curls splayed out across the floor or a bed or wherever, he didn’t care. Jimmy was sick of chasing lovely girls to then face rejection after she realised he wasn’t interested in walking her down the aisle. Next time Jimmy had a day off he’d head to York and find himself a whore.

All his life people had preached _patience is a virtue_ but Jimmy had never given a damn. What Jimmy wanted, Jimmy got and right now, Jimmy was desperate. Driven mad by his current dry spell, he just wanted an outlet - nothing less and certainly nothing more. He didn’t care for romance, not now. There would be time for all of that farce someday. Romance is daft anyway; it’s for poets, silly girls and...Well, Mr Barrow's lot he supposed. Jimmy was a lad, a proper man and he knew love was just a notion.

  _Knock knock._

 

Jimmy’s eyes flew open as Ivy banged on his door.

“It’s time to get up!”

As Ivy's footsteps trotted away, Jimmy groaned and thumped his bed I frustration. How had he spent two hours laying there, doing nothing but grumble away to himself in his mind? He had wanted to try and squeeze in an extra kip!

“Fucking hell,” he spat to the air. “Today is going to be shit.”

He heaved himself out of bed and muttered away to himself darkly as he dressed, already sensing that today was simply not going to be one of his better days. Before leaving his room to use the men’s facilities, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a vanity mirror. His hair had perfectly curled itself which slightly improved his mood. He let his gaze travel downwards to his face, praying he didn’t look too tired but sadly that slight flicker of hope for the day was lost when he saw the purple bruises under his eyes, his pale cheeks and cracked lips. He looked unwell. Turning his face left and right, tilting it up and down, he attempted to see if he looked better from another angle. A childhood sweetheart once told him, _“You’re as golden as a summer day.”_   That comment had made him puff out his young chest with pride but looking at his reflection now, he looked more like a wet winter. Alfred would look better than him today, which irked him. He didn’t even look pale in an interesting way like Mr Barrow.

Jimmy could remember the first moment he had laid eyes on Mr Barrow when he walked into the servant’s hall. It was an unusual thought for have but Jimmy had been slightly intimidated by the older man at first sight. He had always been so used to being the most attractive member of staff wherever he worked, without question. For the first time, Jimmy found himself working alongside a man who was as equally handsome as he, perhaps even better looking in the eyes of some. They were opposites in their looks; Jimmy was smaller, slighter, tanned and golden, whilst Mr Barrow was taller, paler, and darker with a very red mouth – not that Jimmy thought anything _untoward_   regarding Mr Barrow's mouth. No, it was simply a prominent feature on his striking face. Jimmy remembered how glad he had been when he was told that Mr Barrow wasn’t a footman too or there would have been serious competition between the two of them. Jimmy then found out that he needn't have worried about any sort of competition between him and Mr Barrow.  Jimmy had not needed need to worry about a lack of attention from any ladies as Mr Barrow was never going to be a threat when it came to women. No, it was _Jimmy_   who Thomas had fallen for, not Ivy or any village girl. It was _Jimmy_   who he constantly gave hints to, followed by light, lingering touches. It was _Jimmy_   who he kissed that night.

That night that was still a sore spot for both of them.

He still felt immense guilt when he thought of how he could have had his friend thrown into the streets with no reference. His friend who displayed incredible selfless bravery saving him from the yobs at the fair would have likely ended up as a filthy prostitute god knows where. Awful visions had plagued his dreams for months and their terrible sights showed Jimmy lecherous old men in decrepit, seedy bars putting their filthy hands on his savior, or muscular sailors with cold eyes passed Thomas between each other as they called Thomas degrading, vulgar names. Yes, Jimmy supposed he could call Mr Barrow ‘ _Thomas’_ now.

“Jimmy, are you coming down for breakfast?” asked a voice from beyond his door, snapping him out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil.

“Erm – yes, I’ll be down in a minute. How late am I?” Jimmy called back.

“You’re about ten minutes late. You’ll need to hurry up or you’ll get nothing. Mr Carson isn’t impressed. Your plate is next to Bates.”

He heard Thomas’s light footsteps walking away.

“ _Shit,”_ Jimmy cursed under his breath. “This day is just getting better and better.”

 

After Jimmy was scolded for his tardiness and Alfred spilt his tea on Jimmy's trousers, the rest of the working day passed in what seemed like a never ending blur of silver trays, delicate glasses, soft voices, _more_  damn silver trays and Carson’s never ending, repetitious orders. Jimmy felt somewhat unconscious and dazed when he finally settled down in the rocking chair by the fire with a newspaper on his knee. Unfortunately as his opened the paper, he found an attractive photo of a young, smiling woman, reminded Jimmy of his current nonexistent love life; a clear sign that even the damn papers were taunting him! He wondered what the girl would look like in colour. Would she have soft tanned skin with dark brown hair and pink lips? Would she be a pale, ethereal beauty with very dark hair and a red mouth, a mouth like Thomas’s? Again, he didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards his friend, not at all. He was just able to appreciate the fact that his mate had nice coloured lips. He himself had quite nice lips, he had been told this many times but his weren’t as red as Thomas’s. There was nothing _queer_ about noticing that, it was a simple observation. Women always crowded together to discuss each other’s looks or their hairstyles so why can’t a man appreciate his mates very red lips? Something Jimmy would never admit out loud was that he had once lain restless in his bed and thought of Thomas. His daydreams had been slipping through glimpses of glistening flapper girls, swirling and twirling in their short beaded dresses of silver, lilac, black and gold. The prominence of the colour black must have reminded his mind’s eye of Thomas’s ebony hair for Jimmy had no other excuse as to why his thoughts had changed to show him snippets of a red mouth, stormy eyes and very white skin. He had allowed himself to analyse Thomas’s features in considerable depth and narrowly avoided a sexuality crisis by concluding that if Thomas’s physical appearance was described without a direct reference to his gender: porcelain skin, ebony hair, blue eyes and full red lips, this description was more fitting for a nymph-like maiden, not a very male under butler, therefore it was perfectly _natural_ for Jimmy to notice his friend had some kind of beauty. If only Thomas had been a woman.  Jimmy would have welcomed the female Thomas Barrow with open arms, despite his usual preference for blondes. He had conjured up a female Thomas in his thoughts that night and as he relived the moment, Jimmy could picture that maiden standing before him now. She was tall and slim with a very straight, narrow back. She wore a long, shimmering black dress. Her red lips parted as she spoke his name -

 

“Jimmy, have you got my paper?”

 Jimmy bolted up in his seat so quickly the newspaper flew onto the floor. He blinked several times as his face heated in embarrassment. He snapped his head to the right to see Thomas bending down to pick up the paper.

“I knew you had it! I almost accused Alfred of theft, you know. Imagine how that would have gone down with O’Brien? Good riddance to her. I knew it was you who had the paper really.” Thomas stared at the front page. “These papers today, they’re always full of rubbish.”

Jimmy sat in silence for a moment with his mouth hanging open before he quickly shook his head, swallowing. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Thomas looked up from his paper. “Right then Mr Kent, scoot. I claimed that chair years ago.”

Jimmy hopped up to let Thomas take his throne. As he sat down, Jimmy pulled a chair out from the staff table. He still felt slightly on edge after his shock so he put all of his energy into tapping his left foot, aware that Thomas was giving him a concerned look.

“Jimmy, are you alright?” Thomas asked with squinted eyes. “You’ve been acting funny for the past week. Is anything the matter?”

Forcing a low laugh, Jimmy shook his head. “No, Mr Barrow. I’m alright. Why’d you ask?”

“I’ve told you, you can call me Thomas when Carson isn’t around –“

“Sorry, I was going to say Thomas but –“

Thomas shook his head and ruffled the newspaper slightly, smiling. “It doesn’t matter, don’t worry. Anyway, you’ve just been a bit off. You’ve been in a right foul mood, even Mrs Hughes commented on your scowls. You’ve been in and of daydreams; you’re staring into space all the time. Mr Kent, have you got a sweetheart?” Thomas smirked at him.

“What are you on about?” Jimmy scoffed.

Thomas gave him a knowing look and returned his attention to the newspaper. He flicked through the pages as he teased, “Well it just seems like you’ve got someone or something on your mind.”

“I wish.” Jimmy sighed, causing Thomas to look up at him again. “Honestly Thomas, I can’t find a decent girl to spend some time with.”

“Is Ivy not good enough for you these days?” Thomas smirked again.

“Oh I’m getting nowhere with her, she’s seen to that. Never mind, I won’t bother you with it.” Jimmy sighed again, leaning back in his chair.

In all honesty, Jimmy felt guilty. He knew that Thomas had... _feelings_ for him and they were still rekindling their fragile friendship. He felt that it was unfair to discuss women in front of Thomas after he rejected him so harshly. Would Thomas even want to hear about Jimmy’s lack of conquests? Perhaps he was simply being kind? Sometimes it felt as though he was tip-toeing on eggshells when he was around his friend.

Thomas nudged Jimmy’s ankle with his foot. “Hey, we’re going to be mates now aren’t we? You can tell me things Jimmy, anything. I’m over all of that you know. It’s in the past. Don't worry about my ego. What happened between you and Ivy? Also, what happened with that lass from that farm who you met?”

Jimmy crossed his arms and slouched back into his seat like a huffy teenager. He gave a heavy sigh before he scoffed, “I got nowhere with them.”

Thomas shook his head and continued to look at Jimmy with a steady gaze. “So what you’re really saying is that they wouldn’t go to bed with you? That’s what you mean?”

Jimmy shrugged, “well yeah!”

“If you want _that_ , go find a flapper in York.” Thomas chuckled as Jimmy scowled. “Honestly Jimmy, what do you expect? Ivy is a nice, sensible girl - annoying as hell, mind you. She can never keep her nose out of other folk’s business. Plus, she’s not keen on me so I’ve got that excuse.”

“You don’t give her any reason to be keen on you.” Jimmy quipped.

Thomas shrugged, “If she minded her own and kept out of my way with those soup bowls we wouldn’t have a problem. It’s not my fault she’s a bloody ninny! Honestly, Daisy is more competent than her. That being said, she’s still far too nice for _you_.”

This time Jimmy kicked Thomas’s ankle. “And what do you mean by that, Mr Barrow?”

Thomas gave him a genuine laugh. “I mean you’re a selfish, vain bastard. Hark at you complaining about the nice, sweet girls not wanting to succumb to your sinful ways.” He gave Jimmy another smirk as his eyes shone with amusement.

“I’d rather have fun with a sinner than be bored stiff with the saints.” Jimmy smiled, not taking Thomas’s bait. “Come on, you have to admit they’re all boring round here. Nobody’s up for a good time.”

“Maybe those poor girls don’t want to be another notch on your bedpost, Mr Kent? Next time, take the lass out a few times before you try it. You can’t have everything your way. You’re a right git sometimes, do you know that?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. Wasting money on pointless dates with boring, dull girls was the last thing he wanted to do. He had no time for polite, slow, steady. He wanted to have a few drinks with a girl, stroke his hand over her knee then take her back somewhere, be it a hotel room or an alley, he didn’t care. He wanted to dance, drink and have fun with a _fun person_. These sweet, mild country girls lacked culture and enthusiasm. Strolls around the village, hand holding in the park? Jimmy didn’t want that. It was likely that he never would...and he suddenly had a thought.

“Thomas, has everyone else gone to bed?” He asked.

Thomas’s attention had returned to his paper. “Yep, we’re the last one’s up.”

Jimmy opened his mouth and shut it again, unsure how to approach the question he wanted to ask. “Erm... Thomas?”

“Yes?” His eyes were still set on his newspaper.

“How you said we were friends...well, what’s it like for _your lot?_ ” As soon as Jimmy asked the question, he cringed internally. ‘Your lot’ was the most ridiculous thing he could ever say to Thomas Barrow’s face.

Thomas looked up again but thankfully an amused smile played upon the corners of his mouth, not a frown of outrage or offense.

“ _My lot?_ ” He chuckled, shaking his head. “What’d you mean?”

Jimmy shuffled slightly in his seat, uncomfortable. He didn’t want to offend Thomas.

“I just mean...has a man ever taken you out?”

Thomas stared at him for a moment, the amusement fading from his face. After a pause, he looked down at his newspaper again. He couldn’t look Jimmy in the eye.

“Well you know how...well, what we do is... _illegal_ , all of that. You can’t really take each other out you see; you just can’t really do that. Well people do but you have to be very careful and unless you go to a...a place that... _caters_ for us, well you can’t behave like you’re on any kind of romantic outing.”

Jimmy nodded. “I imagined it would be like that for you. Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

It was Thomas’s turn to shift uncomfortably. This was a taboo topic that Thomas never discussed with anyone, not even O’Brien when they were close allies. He had never had this conversation with a heterosexual before and although he and Jimmy had decided to become friends again, Thomas felt nervous, especially since he had made an unwanted advance towards the lovely young man opposite him.

He contemplated what an appropriate response would be before he answered Jimmy’s question. Did he change the subject of their conversation or did he tell Jimmy about his personal life?

“I won’t think anything bad or be disgusted.” Jimmy prompted, curious to know more.

Jimmy realised that knew barely anything about Thomas. He only knew a small amount about Thomas's past and it wasn’t much. He didn’t know about his family, any friends he had and certainly knew nothing of Thomas's love life. This fact made Jimmy feel disappointed in himself for not being a more considerate friend. Thomas had listened to Jimmy’s tales of his parents, his cousins and some of the exciting events that took place when Jimmy worked for the Anstruther’s.

“The longest relationship I ever had was with a duke, would you believe?” Thomas smiled sadly.

Jimmy’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “You were with a _duke?_ Are you joking?”

“No,” Thomas said bitterly, shaking his head. “The Duke of Crowborough. We were down for the London season years ago when I was a young footman. Bloody hell, I was only around twenty then. He was a few years older, late twenties I think. He noticed me at one of the parties. I was aware that he had been staring at me every chance he got. I was so arrogant then – ha, like you now.” He joked in a low voice, gaining another kick from Jimmy.

“I’ve heard people talking about how you used to behave. Mrs Patmore and Daisy often mention it.” Jimmy said. “What were you like?”

Thomas smiled and sighed again. “Honestly, I was just arrogant. I was too ambitious and too proud for my own good. I was bitter and resentful of everyone who had a good time because I was so miserable about many things. I was also beautiful. I knew it and I loved the attention I received. Me and the other footman, William, the dead solider Daisy married – oh, I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you about that, it’s her business. Just keep that quiet. Anyway, he was much nicer than me and everyone preferred him. I hated that and we used to compete a lot for praise. I had the leverage that I was more intelligent, less clumsy and I was the first footman. I was also better looking. I was used to being stared at by guests or even people in the street. I was always stopped by someone when I visited a pub or a bar. Ha, shame it was mostly women who approached. Doesn't matter, anyway, once in London, around the time of the Duke actually, I was out with Mr Carson running errands when a strange Spanish sounding woman stopped me in the street to offer me a job as a model for artists. I was tempted to say yes so I could fuck off from a life in servitude but Mr Carson was nearby and overheard. O’Brien had a right laugh about that when I bragged to her later. Daisy loved me before William too and I was rotten to her. That’s why I knew Philip – the Duke – was looking at me because I was used to being looked at. You sometimes remind me of how I used to be.”

Jimmy scoffed in mock offense, dramatically turning his head away. “Cheeky bastard, I’m nothing of the sort. I’m a kind, considerate soul.”

“You are until you want a lass in your bed!” Thomas teased, leaning back in the rocking chair before he continued his story. “The Duke kept trying to catch my eye so I pretended that I couldn’t see him until I served him a drink. I would lean slightly too close and whispered his ear if he wanted a refill. When the party had ended and the toffs made their way up to bed, I was clearing glasses out of the room with this other lad. I had just walked past a pillar in the hallway of the London house when I felt someone behind me. It was the Duke and he whispered in my ear for me to go to his room later. He slipped a note into my pocked with directions.”

“I bet you were a right cock tease.” Jimmy snorted. “So you two got together for real?”

Thomas nodded. “After a couple of days, I was given a key to his house. He actually did take me out one night so that officially answers your question from before. It was some posh club where rich folk went. It was nice except for the fact that he had this friend with him who kept putting his hand on my leg under the table. After the season, we wrote to each other for a long while. I even met him a few times in London or York when I had a full day off. Then one day, Lady Mary needed a suitor so I got him to come up here under that guise. It turned out that he actually was considering marrying her for her money because he was bankrupt. I wanted him up here so he could finally take me on as his valet, like he had been promising the whole time. The bastard stole the letters I had received from him so I couldn’t take any revenge on him when he told me that he was buggering off to find a wife. Fair enough, I did threaten to blackmail him but I wasn’t serious, I was just very hurt in the moment. He never wanted me to be with him. Well…maybe he did, I don't know. I had been told by one of his other mates in that posh club that he kept going on about me so perhaps he did love me in his own twisted way. He was just too cowardly and selfish, a snob too. I suppose now I think about it, I can’t blame him. Maybe I would have done the same thing if were me who needed a wife.”

Thomas paused and suddenly realised how much he had rambled. Jimmy didn’t ask for that much information. He felt a blush creep into his cheeks. Sometimes he made a real arse out of himself.

Jimmy wasn’t bored or repulsed by Thomas’s sad tale, not at all. He had been intrigued. Jimmy could imagine a younger version of Thomas. The Thomas Barrow in front of him now was still a young, handsome man but perhaps a twenty year old Thomas would have been ever better looking.

“I’m sorry, Thomas.” He said with sincerity.

Thomas looked up and smiled. “What you sorry for? You aren’t him. It was ages ago anyway. I was bitter about it all for a long time but I’m over it now. Like I said, I can’t really blame the stupid sod, can I? I reckon that if the Duke turned up now, I would welcome him just like any other guest. Life goes on.”

Jimmy felt his chest tighten for a moment. “Like how we’re getting on, being mates?” He tried to make his voice sound light and carefree but there was a hollow tone underneath.

Thomas’s smile faltered slightly but he valiantly tried to look nonchalant. “Yes, like us.” He watched Jimmy nod and the two men fell into an awkward silence.

“Jimmy…I suppose now we are kind of on that topic…I’m sorry for...what I did that night. I shouldn’t –“

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” snapped Jimmy, who quickly blushed at his sharp tone. “I didn’t mean to snap, sorry. I just mean that it’s water under the bridge. I shouldn’t have been so…nasty about it. You’ve opened my eyes. I used to think that…well…people like you were either creepy old men, vulgar sailors or the girly types. You’re not any of that. You’re just Thomas.”

If Jimmy had gotten up and walked out of the room, Thomas’s eyes might have watered. Guilt and regret had weighed on Thomas's mind every since he was thrown out of Jimmy's room. For weeks he had felt like a pathetic, unwanted rat, too filthy to belong among such good people.  He was worse than vermin in O'Brien and Alfred's eyes, even Jimmy's for awhile. He still felt a deep shame that churned his stomach when he thought of Jimmy's furious, disgusted expression.

“Well…thank you, Jimmy.”

Jimmy flapped his hand and shook his head, “Your welcome but let’s just forget about that. It’s all fine, Thomas. So that Duke was a git then? Come on, who else was there? Oh – tell me about how you found out you were queer then. I’ll tell you about my embarrassing first time.”

Thomas managed to keep himself from blushing again as he blinked repeatedly in mild shock.

“I suppose I’d always known I was a bit, let’s say _different_. I was never fussed about any of the girls for obvious reasons. I’d heard ridiculous horror stories of men who went after young boys but that was all I had ever been told about people like me. I was the youngest in my family so if I ever showed any _lilac tendencies_ , my mother always put it down to me being the fussed over child. My dad made sure I was good at sports and he stopped me from drawing flowers, daft things like that. He was a bastard. Anyway, I’m rambling on. When I was around twelve, I was always followed by a girl called Kate. Her friends were always hanging around me too when we were at school and they were like twittering birds, always trying to push us together. Kate was nice and pretty enough so I used to tolerate her. She had a brother who was a couple years older than us called Evan and met him through her. He was tall for his age and quite good looking. He took me hunting with him in the woods and it took me awhile to realise that I felt something for him. I also realised that he was often bringing me little presents and things, like chocolate. One day in the woods, he told me that he liked me and that I reminded him of snow white. Then he kissed me.”

Jimmy smirked and wolf whistled.

“Oh shut up! Thomas said with an eye roll before he playfully kicked Jimmy's ankle again. “Let’s hear yours then.”

“Ah ah! Did he _only_ kiss you? I was going to tell you my deflowering story so you can cough up the good stuff, Mr Barrow. Fairs fair.”

He leant forward and raised his eyebrows at Thomas, not unlike an expression commonly seen on a stern schoolmaster.

Thomas was tempted to kick Jimmy again, harder, to wipe his smug smirk off his face. He wondered if this was why the rest of the staff often lost patience with him when he sat before them with such a snarky expression. No wonder Bates often frowned at him.

 “Alright, yes he did more. He deflowered _me_ a few weeks later so there you go.”

“Ah, young love!” Jimmy sighed in a ridiculous voice. “Mine was when I was fifteen. I shagged my mates older sister over a gravestone and got bit on my legs and arse by ants.”

Thomas stared at Jimmy in amused horror. “You disgusting bastard, where’s the respect for the dead? That’s actually awful. You deserved every ant bite you got. That's what all that karma malarkey is about.”

“I’d do it all again now.” said Jimmy, giving Thomas a firm nod before he frowned. “Well I would if a lass round here would actually let me shag her! That’s why I’ve been so down lately. I’m going mad, Thomas! I keep seeing beautiful photos everywhere and red lips –“

Jimmy stopped himself as he lost the ability to breathe for a second. _‘Shit’_ he thought as he felt heat rising to his cheeks. His embarrassment worsened as he caught Thomas grinning at him like a smug Cheshire cat – smirking with that red mouth that cruely kept creeping into Jimmy’s thoughts. He couldn’t help it, could he? His mouth was so red and full, almost like a girls which is why Jimmy keeps thinking about it, obviously. Thomas’s mouth was like a strawberry dropped in cream; soft velvety red against pale white, like how a fair girl's lips should be - a _girls_. Women. Woman. She.

“You’re off in fantasy land, Mr Kent. I think you better get yourself off to bed.”

Jimmy came back round to his senses when Thomas stood from his rocking chair. He watched his friend shuffle about, picking up his newspaper and checking for his beloved cigarettes. It must be very late now, very late indeed. They had been talking for ages. That meant Jimmy was going to look awful in the morning again, which displeased him greatly. Why did Thomas always look alright even though he was often the last to go to bed? He could pull of the pasty, purple eyed look without looking -

“Oi, it’s late. You need to get some sleep. I reckon you’ll also need to be sorting yourself out as well with all the daydreaming about women you’ve been doing.” Thomas joked. “Come on, up.”

He had yanked Jimmy to his feet and lightly pushed him toward the direction of the servant's stairs. As he two men crept up to the attic, they tried not to make a single sound, fearing that if they made any noise, Carson would emerge from his room to scold them for being up at such a ridiculous hour. The two of them glanced at each other and almost erupted into childish giggles like naughty schoolboys. Just before Jimmy pulled his door handle, Thomas leant close to him and whispered, “You can dream of those red lips you’re so fond of.”

Jimmy stretched his leg out and kicked the under butler as he walked away, who quietly chuckled as he had attempted to dodgy Jimmy’s foot.

 

Once Jimmy was finally settled in his bed, basking in the warmth and comfort of his pillow and blankets, he prepared himself for a blissful night’s sleep. Drifting off into a dreamland, Jimmy could see nothing but silver speckled darkness that reminded him of the stars, as though he had his own small universe behind his eyes. Silence wove itself into his musky bedroom air and for once, he felt peaceful.

Somewhere in the far-off distance of his subconscious, a siren called to him, too far away to be heard.

_Dream of those red lips you’re so fond of._


	2. A Small Heart-To-Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy still isn't a hit with the ladies but luckily for him, he has a day off coming his way and he wants visit York where he can have some fun. After landing in hot water with Carson, Jimmy and Thomas have another late night chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for opening the second installment of 'Needs Must'. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. If you spot any errors or if you have any questions/queries then please feel free to leave a comment.  
> You can also speculate to your hears content if you wish.  
> I will respond to every single comment I receive, I promise.
> 
> A couple of little things I want to explain:
> 
> 1) If anything that takes place doesn't quite fit Downton's timescale then please forgive me. I'm concentrating so much just Thomas and Jimmy that it wouldn't surprise me if a couple of things weren't completely accurate to the show. Honestly, I'm not too bothered so I hope you aren't either.  
> I just want to focus on these two characters so I may tweak a few things.
> 
> 2) The bedroom situations.  
> I haven't watched Downton since the Christmas finale so I can't quite remember if Alfred and Jimmy shared a room. I feel like they did but for the purpose of this story, Jimmy definitely has his own room, as does Alfred.
> 
> 3) Jimmy's personal views and thoughts, especially regarding women.  
> In this fanfiction, I consider Jimmy's POV more than other characters as he is the central character. Jimmy is a very vain, arrogant young man who considers himself to be God's gift to women.  
> I personally do not agree with his attitude towards the women he mentions and I don't condone his behaviour when he treats them like disposable objects.

Life at Downton continued at its normal pace. Lady Mary was finally rejoining the living after her immense grief over the death of her husband, Matthew Crawley. Her turn around put Mr Carson in high spirits and the pride that shone in his eyes every time he looked at his surrogate daughter would have moved Jimmy slightly, if it weren’t for the fact that Carson was constantly scolding him over minor errors. Alfred hardly ever received such harsh verbal lashings. Jimmy complained to Thomas but he only ever received a laugh and, _‘don’t worry, I used to get worse and I’m still here.”_

Jimmy was also deeply frustrated that he still had not been able to have a roll in the hay with a beautiful girl but after his conversation with Thomas in the servant’s hall his temperament had calmed slightly. He still dreamt of attractive women and his pent up frustration sometimes caused him a few issues in the nether regions but thankfully, Jimmy had always been tucked up safe in his bed when those little problems rose. Overall, his mood had greatly improved and he was no longer prowling the around abbey like a bad tempered ghoul. Mrs Patmore took it upon herself to point this out whenever he passed the kitchen, often resulting in Ivy shooting him haughty looks. She could get stuffed as far as he was concerned.

Jimmy a full day off coming up soon. He felt that wouldn’t need Ivy or the farmer’s daughter, nor any of the other village bores because this weekend, Jimmy was going to have fun. He was going to visit a sophisticated club in York and meet beautiful, lively women. He would dance the night away then finally, he’d take the wildest, prettiest girl back to a cheap hotel and remind himself of a real woman’s touch. He wanted to mess up her hair and get her rouge all over his neck. He’d fuck that girl two ways to Sunday and love ever damn second of it.

“James, Mr Carson wants you to help Alfred clear away the glasses around the house.” said Mrs Hughes as passed him on the servant’s staircase. “Are you alright? You look a little flushed.”

“Thank you, Mrs Hughes and no, I’m just warm from walking about.” Jimmy smiled before he made his way back upstairs.

Alfred wasn’t as incompetent as usual today for Jimmy found that the other footman had already cleared away most of the leftover glasses. The two men were giving each other the cold shoulder as they worked in silence but Jimmy could sense Alfred glancing in his direction every so often in an attempt to strike up a conversation. Once the footmen had checked all the downstairs rooms for any empty glasses they could have missed, the two men finally made their way towards the servant’s staircase. Alfred held the servant’s door open for Jimmy but he refused to look at him as he strode past into the stairwell. He knew that Alfred still wanted to ask him a stupid question of some kind and he was becoming irritated.

“What is it Alfred? You’ve obviously got something to say.” He snapped, turning his head so that he could see the other man’s expression as they made their way downstairs.

Alfred huffed and whispered, “Ivy told me that you were right rude to her when you took her out. She said you were only after one thing and that you tried to kiss her.”

Jimmy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “She’ll have been exaggerating her stories like always but yeah, so what if I kissed her? She wanted a date so I took her out. What else did she expect?” He shook his head. “ _Honestly!_ ”

 “You’re a really selfish person, Jimmy and Ivy deserves better! If she doesn’t want a kiss then she doesn’t want one. You’re always so forward with people and you’re rude.” Alfred scolded as an ugly, deep frown formed on his freckled face.

“Pssh. So what?” Huffed Jimmy, “She doesn’t have to whine on! I didn’t try it again so if she has a problem, that’s her business. It’s not my fault she and all the other lasses around here don’t know how to have a good time!”

Before Alfred could scold Jimmy further, Mrs Patmore passed by the staircase and turned to glare at Jimmy. “You, young man, are too big for your boots. Get on with your work and stop carrying on in the hallway before Mr Carson catches you!” She shook her head at him and stormed towards the kitchen to holler at Daisy.

“Too right, Mrs Patmore!” called Alfred, shoving past Jimmy with his shoulder.

Jimmy stood at the bottom of the stares and glared at the back of Alfred’s red head. What on earth had he done wrong when he took Ivy out? She clearly wanted it; she was just playing hard to get in a stupid attempted to be sophisticated.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head, Mr James Kent.”

Jimmy turned to see Thomas walking towards him, his eyebrows raised. He looked at Jimmy like a father who had spotted his child attempting to cause mischief, which annoyed Jimmy as he wasn’t in the mood to be patronised, not even in jest.

“Whatever you have to say, say it, Thomas. Don’t look at me with your condescending face.” Jimmy snapped coldly.

Thomas crossed his arms and leant against the wall. “That’s Mr Barrow to you when we’re on duty, Jimmy. I happen to be your superior. I wouldn’t be using that tone with me.”

“Quite right, Mr Barrow,” spoke Mr Carson in his theatrical boom as he strode out of the servants hall with a most disapproving frown on his weathered face. “James, you are getting on my last nerve. Your mood has been foul for the past few weeks and despite my numerous warnings, your behaviour still has not improved. Now I see that you are giving your superiors cheek.”

“Mr Carson,” Thomas broke in, “Jimmy’s been having a bit of a rough time of late.”

Carson fixed his stern gaze on Thomas. “Mr Barrow, please kindly refrain yourself from overstepping your mark. You may be the _under_ butler but am I not head of staff? Did you not just reprimand James for his tone when speaking to you?”

Jimmy felt guilty as he watched Thomas’s features harden. “Yes, Mr Carson. I apologise.”

“Keep your personal biases out of my disciplinary measures in future, Mr Barrow. You have your own work to be getting on with so see to it that you do.” Carson said in a very final tone, putting an end to Thomas’s involvement in the conversation.

Thomas simply nodded silently and walked away, his tail somewhat between his legs.

“Now then, James,” said Carson, “What troubles do you have that are causing you to have such a distasteful attitude? You’re not normally quite as bad as this.” He was not asking Jimmy this question out of any particular concern, except for the fact that he didn’t appreciate his staff working below par. Carson was not fond of Jimmy and both men knew it. To Carson, Jimmy was a hot headed, vain youth who was too arrogant to see sense half of the time. Jimmy’s saving grace was that he was a good footman when he completed his tasks efficiently and he looked the part.

“It’s nothing, Mr Carson. I apologise. I shouldn’t have spoken to Mr Barrow like that. Alfred was winding me up and –“Jimmy explained before he was cut off.

"I appreciate your apology but it means nothing until I see results. I don’t care what Alfred was doing. I haven’t seen him moping around, snapping at his superiors. Improve your mood, James or there will be consequences. I expect all of my staff to toe the line and at present, you are not. See to it that I don’t need to speak to you on this matter again.”

With that Carson nodded and walked away leaving James standing alone at the staircase, embarrassed and frustrated. _‘Alfred never gets in trouble. He’s the favourite. He’s the William to my Thomas,’_ he thought to himself bitterly. Jimmy straightened his waistcoat and was about the head into the boot room when Daisy popped her head around the kitchen door.

“Do you want a quick cup of tea?” Daisy whispered. “Mrs Patmore and Ivy are in the pantry so answer quickly.”

Jimmy looked at her in surprise. “Er – yes, please. I’ll be in the boot room.”

Daisy nodded and her head disappeared back behind the kitchen door frame. Jimmy smiled to himself and walked to the boot room. Five minutes later, Daisy appeared with a cup of hot tea and a small oat biscuit.

“Cheers Daisy, you didn’t have to.” Smiled Jimmy sincerely, genuinely appreciative that he had a warm drink to cheer him up as he scrubbed a pair of Lord Grantham’s shoes. He was doing this as a favour for Mr Bates who was too busy to clean his Lordship’s shoes at present as he was helping his master pack for his trip to America, although Jimmy had muttered to himself why he couldn’t have asked Alfred. He took it as a sign that Bates preferred him.

Daisy smiled and leaned against the door. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to cheer you up a bit. You’ve been so down lately. I’ve felt sorry for you. I hope you sort out whatever it is that is making you so unhappy. Mr Barrow has never even frowned as much as you have the past few days.”

Jimmy could have laughed. “Everyone likes to keep reminding me of that.”

Daisy shrugged. “I’ve got to get back. Bring your cup back to the kitchen once you’re done or Mrs Patmore will have you for a dog’s dinner!”

Jimmy did laugh this time as she dashed out of the door. He actually found himself enjoying his current task in the solitude of the boot room. He could hear the distant sound of shuffling of feet and voices but other than that, the room was almost silent. It was rare for a servant to find such a peaceful haven when they worked in a house as large as Downton and Jimmy took his time cleaning the shoes in front of him. He silently thanked Bates for asking him for this favour.

 

Two days later, Jimmy sat downstairs in the servant’s hall in Thomas’s rocking chair, making a mental note to himself of the places he wanted to see in York tomorrow. He had taken on board Mr Carson’s final warning and he had managed to refrain himself from speaking too bluntly or snapping at the other staff. His trip to York was going to be a breath of fresh air away from the other servants all of the hustle and bustle of the abbey.

 _Why don’t I start the celebrations early? I’ve got that old bottle of whiskey in my room.’_ He thought to himself, smiling.

“I’m glad you’ve got a smile on your face again.” said Anna as she strolled into the room. “It’s about time.”

“I’ve got a day off tomorrow. I’m off to York.” Jimmy replied.

Anna smiled. “That sounds lovely. I hear the weather is supposed to be warm as well. Make sure you have a good time so you can come back perked up.”

“I will, Anna, thank you.” Jimmy smiled.

Anna returned his smile and said, “Good night, Jimmy. Enjoy your day off.”

 

 

Slowly the evening hours past and by ten o’clock, the majority of the staff turned in for the night. Jimmy was the last servant sitting at the dining table.  Alfred had gone to bed after their card game and Mrs Hughes had left soon after, reminding Jimmy not to stay up too late in case he missed the early train to York in the morning. Jimmy stayed put as he wanted to wait for Thomas to finish his nightly smoke outside. Sometimes Jimmy joined him but tonight, he was too tired to pull himself out of his chair. As he fiddled with his cards, Thomas eventually came inside and sat down in his rocking chair.

“You should be in bed, Mr Kent. You don’t want to miss your train.” Thomas said, rocking back in the chair slowly. “Imagine the horrors in store for the rest of us if he couldn’t go on your trip.”

“Yeah, I’m heading up.” Jimmy nodded, still looking at his cards.

Thomas reached for the newspaper that had been left at the edge of the dining table. “Off you pop then, you don’t need my permission to leave.”

Jimmy snorted and sorted his cards into a neat pile before he finally looked at Thomas. “Come and have a drink with me. I’ve got whiskey in my room.”

Thomas was intently reading an article with a furrowed brow but he still answered Jimmy. “You shouldn’t drink whiskey when you’ve got to be up bright and early, should you? You need bright eyes and a bushy tail. The rest of us have to be up even earlier or have you forgotten that already? Honestly, the amount of murders that must happen around the country! Some bloke was stabbed in London in broad daylight. His body was found by two women. I bet they got the shock of their life. Watch you don’t get stabbed in York, Carson will never forgive you for leaving without notice.”

Jimmy tutted and shook his head as he stood up from his chair. “Give over. I was serious, Thomas. Come to my room and have a drink. I want to celebrate early. Since when did you ever turn down an opportunity for a drink?”

“I’ve always preferred wine if I’m honest.” Thomas smirked, looking up at his friend through his long eyelashes. Thomas had very pretty eyelashes.

Jimmy laughed and returned his friend’s smirk. “Mr Carson warned me and Alfred about that when we first came. He told us that he didn’t want us to repeat your thefts.”

Thomas just laughed and folded the newspaper in half. “He’ll never get over that. If I’m the one who get’s stabbed, I reckon Carson would have that written on my headstone, if I would even get a headstone that is. Maybe I would just have an unnamed cross like the load of dead soldier’s.”

 Jimmy put his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Don’t talk like that, Thomas. You would have a headstone, alright? You’re not a dead solider.”

Thomas blinked and stared at Jimmy’s hand on his body. His hand felt scalding hot against his clothes, as though the heat from his friend’s palm was burning through his clothes. The nerves in his arms seemed to spring to life, electrifying the skin that surrounded Jimmy’s fingers. His heart almost skipped a beat.

“Come on, have a drink we me. Friends do that.” Jimmy said softly. His supportive hand on Thomas’s shoulder turned into a firm grip as he tugged at Thomas’s jacket, a silent order for the under butler to get out of his chair.

Thomas gently threw the newspaper back onto the table where it landed with a soft thug. He turned to face Jimmy and nodded. “Alright but it’ll be a quick drink, mind you. We both need to be up early and I’m not buggering off to York.”

“Come on then.” Jimmy indicated towards the door with his head. “Let’s open that bottle.”

 

One drink turned out to be half a bottle between the two giggling men. They lay side by side on Jimmy’s narrow cot, barely even slotting next to each other on the small bed. They felt like mischievous school boys staying up beyond their curfew.

“You need to quieten down or Alfred’s going to come stomping in. Imagine what he’d say if he thinks I’m plying you with alcohol!” Thomas whispered, wiping his eyes.

Jimmy shrugged, “Alfred snores louder than an elephant. He won’t hear us over himself.”

The two men erupted into giggles again; tilting so far sideways that they fell against each other due to their animated laughter, Thomas’s head falling onto Jimmy’s shoulder. Since neither Jimmy nor Thomas were used to drinking such strong alcohol so quickly, they were both too far gone to feel awkward about their close proximity. Their laughter gently subsided and eventually the two friends lay in comfortable silence, simply content with each other’s company. A few quiet moments passed and neither of them moved or fidgeted so Thomas’s head remained on Jimmy’s firm shoulder. Jimmy’s eyes closed for a few seconds.

“I can’t wait to go dancing tomorrow.” He mumbled dreamily.

“Do you know which club you’re going to?” Thomas yawned as he rubbed his right eye.

“No,” Jimmy said as he turned his head to look out of his window. “I haven’t actually thought about that yet. I don’t really care. I just want to hear some good music. I want to dance with some nice lass too.”

“Do you only want to dance, Mr Kent?” Thomas smirked.

Jimmy chuckled softly and nudged Thomas’s shoulder with his arm. “Oh yeah, I want some of _that_ too. A man has needs, Mr Barrow. You’d think you’d know that better than anyone.” He slurred. “Say, have any brutes ever been after you with just _that_ on their minds, like that Duke of yours?”

Thomas laughed out loud, so loud that Jimmy had to quickly reach his right arm across his body to cup his hand over Thomas’s mouth, resulting in more giggles from the two men.  Jimmy’s eyes filled with tears from the bitter whiskey and his laughter. Once they quietened down again, Jimmy removed his hand, his finger tips ghosting over Thomas’s soft lips and smooth chin.

“There were a few a very hands-on guests, yep. There have also been a few very determined blokes in a few bars. Philip was always a gentleman though; he didn’t put his hands everywhere without permission. Well, he was a gentleman until he went back on his promise and left me here but hey, it’s all fine. I can’t imagine a life with him so it doesn’t matter now.” Thomas said softly, his head still resting on Jimmy’s firm shoulder.

“Life goes on.” Jimmy parroted, remembering Thomas’s words from their conversation days before.

“Exactly,” smiled Thomas. “Besides, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“We’re mates.” Jimmy nodded. “That Duke can’t have you because we’re good mates.”

“Yes,” Thomas laughed. “Good ones. Pass the whiskey over.”

Jimmy patted around his thigh, searching close to his legs. Once he located the precious bottle by his left knee, he took a hearty swig then passed it to Thomas.

“I hope _you_ will be a gentleman tomorrow.” Thomas said after he swallowed his mouthful. “Don’t you go forcing a girl into bed or wherever it is that you take her.”

 Jimmy scoffed, “Hey, ‘course I’ll be a gentleman. I always am –“

"I bet Ivy would beg to differ. Maybe that farmer’s daughter too?” Thomas tittered, taking another swig of whiskey. “Jimmy, your choice in drink is shite. Still, it’s drink.”

“Bring your choice next time then, you ungrateful sod. As if Ivy has an accurate view of me and the world anyway, you said yourself that she’s a ninny.” Jimmy said, snatching the whiskey off Thomas.

Thomas scoffed softly. “A ninny you were probably right rude to. Just enjoy yourself tomorrow but you make sure any lasses that you pick up enjoy themselves too.”

 Jimmy tipped his chin up in a display of haughty pride. “I always do, Mr Barrow.”

 The two men continued to drink the rest of the whiskey, passing the bottle back and forth until Thomas was awarded the final drop. Jimmy took the bottle off him and carefully aimed it at his crumpled jacket that he had thrown onto the floor earlier. It hit the jacket with a soft thud that was luckily not was loud enough to disturb any of the other servants. Thomas shuffled and pulled himself away from Jimmy’s shoulder so he could lean against the headboard. When Thomas moved, Jimmy actually found himself missing the warmth that came from having the other man so close to him. He turned his head to watch Thomas reach into his jacket for his cigarettes. Jimmy had never minded the smell of nicotine and he had told Thomas in the past that he no qualms when it came to his obsessive smoking habit. As he watched Thomas slip his cigarette between his lips, Jimmy found himself entranced by the entire aesthetic of his friend illuminated by moonlight, his pale skin almost translucent in the dim light. His angular jaw line and fine, high cheekbones were more prominent surrounded the dark shadows that framed his face. A small flame flickered from the silver lighter in Thomas’s hand, brightening his red mouth. His pale eyes were downcast, watching the end of his cigarette being lit and Jimmy was struck by how full his dark eyelashes were. Thomas’s eyelashes were quite lovely. Smoke danced over Thomas’s lips, pulling Jimmy’s attention back to his mouth. It was hypnotic to watch Thomas exhaling the grey mist. The smoke swirled past his sharp, delicate cheekbones and up past his now unravelled hair. Jimmy found himself struggling to resist the temptation to touching Thomas.

‘ _There is nothing strange about wanting to touch someone’_ , he thought to himself.

Artists believe the human body is natural art. People like to admire appealing, beautiful art and if a person’s gaze is drawn to a piece of soft velvet, they long to touch the soft fabric. That same principle applied to people did it not? Jimmy had felt Thomas’s smooth skin when he drew his fingers away from his mouth and he had found that pleasing. Jimmy enjoyed stroking his fingers down the curve of a woman’s waist and the crease of her spine. Why would it be any different went it came to a man? Thomas was an attractive person. The other servants and even the Crawley family had commented on his appearance from time to time, just like they did for Jimmy. Thomas could be just as vain as Jimmy (though he would never admit it) and Jimmy had noticed that Thomas couldn’t help himself from admiring his own reflection when he passed a mirror. Why should he not like looking at himself? Jimmy was able to appreciate his own handsome features so why should Thomas not look at his own face with pride? He doesn’t put that pomade in his hair for no good reason.

“You’re off in dreamland again.”

Jimmy blinked. Thomas was staring at him with a confused, yet amused expression, combined with one of his infamous smirks.

“What you looking at me like that for? I thought you were fine with me smoking? I’ll put it out.” Thomas went to snub the blunt of his cigarette but Jimmy reached for his hand. Thomas felt the same burst of electricity as before when their skin touched.

“No, you carry on. I was just daydreaming. I wasn’t looking at you!” Jimmy babbled.

Thomas snorted, putting his cigarette back into his mouth. “I know, you haven’t got any reason to.” His smirked again but there was hollow tone within his voice.

“Oh don’t start a whole ‘woe is me’ act!” Jimmy teased, nudging Thomas. “You can’t pass a mirror without looking at yourself.”

"You can talk!” Thomas nudged him back. “You’re always fluffing your hair, goldilocks.”

“You’re always smoothing yours, Snow White.” Jimmy retorted with a smug grin. “And why should we not? We’re both handsome young men, aren’t we?” He smiled and lent his head back against the bed frame.

As Thomas inhaled more nicotine and shook his head. Jimmy turned his head to look at him. “Thomas?” He received a soft grunt in reply so he continued. “You know what I do when I go to York or Liverpool and that. I have a bite to eat, visit a club and dance with some girls. Sometimes I even get up and play a tune on the piano. You know that. I was wondering…what do _you_ do? Do you go and meet other fella’s?”

 When Thomas didn’t answer straight away, Jimmy wondered if he had overstepped a line. Thomas had told him about his first boyfriend and the Duke but they were romances, real relationships. If Thomas met up with a stranger for a quick fling then…well, it was _different_. Jimmy spending an hour or so with a lady was naughty, cheeky even – behaviour typical of a young lad. Some people would find it scandalous, amusing. If Thomas and another man did the same, it was downright illegal. He did not blame Thomas for hesitating. Two men sneaking off together was a taboo topic and it stirred up seedy, illicit imagery that bordered on something foul. It was something unholy, unnatural and wrong. Jimmy once thought the same but now, now Jimmy was grateful that he met a homosexual like Thomas. The thought of Thomas having to hide in a dark alley or lying in a dirty bed with another man in a filthy brothel was unpleasant for Jimmy. For all his faults, Thomas Barrow was a good man. He didn’t deserve that. None of the good queers did.

“Sorry if I’m being too nosey. I just…I can’t imagine _you_ dancing.” He tried to joke.

Thankfully Thomas’s expression softened. “I’ll have you know that I am actually a very good dancer, ask Daisy or the Dowager.”

Jimmy gave him a confused look and decided he didn’t want to know how his friend ended up dancing with the dowager. “I’ll pass on the details. So will you tell me? I won’t judge you or say anything, to you or anyone. I’m just curious. I’m over all of my…you know, _disgust_ I suppose. Sorry, I don’t think you’re disgusting, you’re not! I never did. I just mean that I’m just curious.”

Thomas blinked at him and took another drag from his cigarette. “Alright.”

“Alright…so go on then, tell me. What do you do? Do you have a _type_? Like, a type of man that you typically go for? Does he –“Jimmy stopped himself midsentence. He almost made a reference to sodomy but he then wondered…would Thomas be the one getting buggered? Maybe he wanted to be the one doing the buggery? Did he like it either way?

Thomas blew the smoke from his lips and considered his answer. “Right then, fine. Yes, I do go looking for another man when I get a full day off. I can’t meet anyone here, it’s too risky. Besides, I don’t think there’s one other homosexual in the village. There was once. A grocer who used to deliver the veg used to eye me up if I was out in the yard fixing a clock. He was called Sean and he was alright looking. He cornered me once when I came out of the pub one night and we met up a couple of times. He moved to Newcastle or something. I’ve never been to Newcastle. Have you?”

“No. Why would I ever go? I’m not interested in your grocer.” Jimmy yawned.

“Neither am I. He wasn’t that good. I suppose to answer your question about if I have a _type_ , I suppose I normally go for a working class man, even though I was with a duke –“

“Other guests too, I presume?” Jimmy snorted, smiling at Thomas.

Thomas shrugged. “Here and there. In all honesty, the majority of the men who I valeted for were much older than me and if they tried anything, I just feigned ignorance until they got the message. There was once this older man, a Lord Bracknell or something - maybe he was an Armstrong actually? Doesn’t’ matter, he was right old git. He wouldn’t keep his bloody hands off me and I was younger than his son who was also staying! I had just become a footman and I was roped in to help because he’d supposedly forgotten his valet and we were so busy. Carson was not pleased. Honestly, I was an inch away from calling for Carson and running out the room.”

Jimmy bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. “Sorry, I’m just picturing an old man chasing you round the bedroom like a scene from a farcical play.”

“I felt like I was in one. What was it like with Anstruther? Did she chase you around the bedroom?” Thomas smiled, running a hand through his hair.

“Pretty much but she was fun – don’t start with your old lady jokes! You’re off topic anyway. So you can’t really meet lads here so you meet them in York or wherever. We’re not too different, are we?” Jimmy smiled.

Thomas raised his eyebrows and the corners of his lips dropped slightly in expressive consideration. “I suppose not, except I’m the one risking jail. When I’m somewhere else, I have a walk around and get my bearings. I’m familiar with York and I know round about the places that cater for the likes of me. They’re always being raided and shut down so it changes almost monthly but you can get the gist of a place. I’ll just have a drink in a bar, or go to some other places like the back of a cinema. You can’t really approach anyone so you just have to learn to pick up the signs people give you. If you see a fella eyeing you up then you just look back at him, carefully though in case he’s just someone looking for trouble. There’s almost a little code – a signal. If you’re the one who…wants to…I don’t know to phrase it without being vulgar. If you want to be the one who…right, let’s just say it; if you’re the one who wants to _bugger_ the other man then you tilt your chin up slightly. The one you’re after will tilt his head down a bit and lower his gaze if he wants that, almost like a _yes_. Or the other way round, you see?”

Jimmy nodded. “In all honesty, it’s not really that different. People make it out to be all…well _you_ know because you have to live with all the stigmas daily.” He watched his friend nod slowly, no longer meeting his eye. “Which one are you then?”

Thomas fidgeted with the buttons on his waistcoat. “Hmm?”

“Which one are you? Are you tilting your head up or dropping your gaze?” Jimmy moved slightly closer to Thomas in an attempt to be comforting and show his friend that he will hold no judgement. “You would lower your gaze, wouldn’t you?” He was given a long, silent pause in return for his question.

“Yes.” Thomas finally whispered as he swallowed thickly. A rose hue blushed his pale cheeks.

“Hey,” Jimmy said softly as he tapped Thomas’s arm. “That’s fine. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, not with me. If you like being buggered then that’s fine.”

“When you say we’re similar, I suppose the only similarity would be that I’m the girl your lot would be chasing, aren’t I? Thomas muttered, still not looking at Jimmy.

“You are no less of a man, Thomas.” Jimmy said sternly. “If I ever made you feel like that, I didn’t mean to, not now or even…back before all of this. Our friendship I mean. You’re one of the strongest, bravest men I know and you’re not… _girly_ at all. Even if you were then…then that would still be okay. You’re a better man that I, that’s for sure. I’m sure you’ve made a lot of men happy and the ones who had you better have appreciated it. You’re better than most people out there; at least you are when you aren’t scheming. I hope they were worth it because you only deserve good people.”

Thomas finally looked at him. His blush had intensified and it hurt Jimmy to see that Thomas’s eyes had watered. His friend looked away and swallowed again.

“ _Thanks_ ,” Thomas whispered in a quiet, cracked voice.

In a rush of affection, Jimmy found himself leaning towards Thomas and planting a light kiss against his forehead. The small kiss surprised both him and Thomas, himself more. Another wave of silence washed over them as they remained side by side. Five minutes past before either man said anything.

Finally, Thomas stretched. “I’m going to bed, it’s late. Thanks for the whiskey and…for saying that, Jimmy. I mean it. No other…person like you has ever – doesn’t matter, thank you. Enjoy York tomorrow.” Thomas stood from Jimmy’s bed and straightened his waistcoat.

“Oh…your welcome, Thomas. I meant it. Thanks.” Jimmy said quietly.

Thomas nodded awkwardly and turned towards Jimmy’s door. Just before he left, he turned back to look at Jimmy. He quickly smiled, “mind you’re on your best behaviour - don’t knock up a lass.”

“Oh get off it!” Jimmy laughed, flipping two fingers at Thomas as a rude gesture before the under butler slipped out of his bedroom door. _‘Cheeky git.’_ He muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter.  
> I hope you found it enjoyable - if not, let me know why. :)
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment and again, please do leave your speculations and guesses.
> 
> Next chapter, we see Jimmy head off to York.
> 
> Before anyone comments, Thomas will be heading off to America with Lord Grantham soon, he just isn't aware yet in this story.


	3. A Woman's Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to York on a beautiful day can work wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written this chapter VERY QUICKLY so I apologie in advance if there are any spelling/grammatical errors and I'm also sorry if this chapter feels rushed...it is, essentially.
> 
> The reason why I'm uploading the third chapter so soon is because next week I am very busy. Jimmy's not the only one who's off for an exciting trip. I'm very excited to be visiting one of my favourite cities in the UK and I doubt that I'll have enough time to write/publish another chapter whilst I'm there.  
> I also wanted to get this chapter out of the way as well. I'm too excited to start developing Jimmy and Thomas's relationship so this to me feels like a bit of a throwaway chapter but I hope that you enjoy it all the same.
> 
> As for York, I've only been to this city a handful of times. I should have done some research and found out the names of some streets and clubs that were around in the 1920's but sadly, I just did not have the time. I've named the few places that I can remember off the top of my head so forgive me if there are any inaccuracies.
> 
> Thank you for reading my third chapter, I hope you enjoy it.

Jimmy Kent stepped out into the bustling streets of York with his suitcase in hand and his jacket casually slung over his shoulder. The periwinkle sky was clear and bright and the buildings that lined the streets looked golden in the sunlight. Something was in the air today; something rather special and that special something seemed to elevate the entire city and all of its inhabitants. Jimmy passed dark suited men and smartly dressed women as he walked through the streets, all of whom were smiling and their happiness was infectious. Even the working classes seemed to be in good spirits but perhaps this was Jimmy’s imagination as he was so used to being surrounded by harassed looking servants. When he strolled over the River Ouse, he noticed that even the water seemed to glint more than usual and he hoped that this perfect welcome into the small, beautiful city meant lady luck was on his side today. From the streets to the people, everything felt golden and dreamlike, as though Jimmy was seeing the day through the eyes of an awestruck child. It was all beautiful; the pedestrians, the few passing cars. The ladies were beautiful, the day was beautiful and Jimmy felt beautiful. All of the frustration that he had felt prior to his trip seemed to evaporate into the chocolaty air. Today, all would be well in Jimmy’s world.

After Jimmy had managed to book himself a room at the Golden Fleece (purely for fun because of all the hauntings rumours), he wandered through the quaint streets for a good tailor. He had saved up a decent amount of money and he intended to spend it. He found a tailor shop that was ran by a kind old gentleman who was so charmed by Jimmy he had lowered the price of a smart suit for his young customer.

“If only you were here last week, you could have met my Bella. She’s married an Irishman now, they wed last Saturday. He’s an uncivilised cad, I tell you. He talks too loud and he sings too much. It’s not proper. If only she had met an Englishman like you.” The old tailor had grumbled.

Jimmy was reminded of Tom Branson and he had snorted. He decided he would tell Thomas this once he returned to the abbey.

The afternoon was still young and the weather was glorious. He stopped for a hot beef sandwich and a pint of ale at a small pub. He flirted with the young barmaid and promised to return the pint glass and give her kiss if she let him eat his lunch down the road opposite the incredible York Minster, the most beautiful cathedral in all of England in Jimmy’s eyes.

‘ _Bliss_ ,’ Jimmy thought to himself as he sat down on a bench close to the magnificent building. _‘This is what people mean when they say bliss.’_

 

* * *

 

“Is that salad ready, Daisy?” Mrs Patmore called as she snatched a soup bowl from Ivy’s hands.

“Alfred! Please could you and check that all of the bedroom doors are closed on the bachelor’s corridor?” Mrs Hughes asked, stopping the footman in the main hall.

“Anna, do you have any black thread? His Lordship’s dinner jacket needs a stich here and there.” Mr Bates called to Anna, who had given him a nod and a sweet smile in reply.

“Mr Barrow,” Carson called as he passed Thomas. “Must you really take so many _breaks_? I can smell the smoke from here. You’re the under butler for heaven’s sake!”

The rest of the servants scurried about the abbey as normal whilst Mr Kent lived the life of riley in York. One footman down, Carson decided that Alfred had triple the amount of tasks to complete, despite only Lord, Lady Grantham and Lady Mary being at home. The rest of the family were out and about for the day. The sky over Downton had clouded slightly and given the village air a slight chill, a world away weather wise from the glorious sunshine in-not-so-distant York.

Every so often, Thomas’s thoughts kept returning to the previous night when Jimmy had lent towards him and given his forehead a gentle kiss. There was nothing in the kiss, Thomas knew that. It was a display of trust and friendship, nothing more. He just couldn’t help reliving the memory, so much so that he sometimes thought he could feel Jimmy’s lips pressing against his skin all over again. He couldn’t go down this route again, not ever. He had almost been thrown into the streets with no reference and no hope for any decent future. That night he had even considered throwing himself in front of a train the next morning. He had to face looks of false pity or plain disgust from those who knew what had took place. O’Brien had sat there and leered at him like a wretched witch, silently revelling in his downfall. Carson has never looked at Thomas the same way again. The words “ _you should be_ _horsewhipped_ ” came to mind.

“Is everything alright, Mr Barrow?” spoke a soft voice as a hand tapped his arm. Anna.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He forced a small smile.

“You look a little bit pale – paler than usual. You hardly touched your breakfast too.” She said quietly as she looked at him with disapproving concern. “If you’re ignoring the fact that you’re not well again, Mrs Hughes won’t be pleased. You were out smoking last night in the cold without a coat on. Remember the last time when you ended up having that terrible cold?”

“Not this again,” Thomas shook his head, although a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not sick. That was ages ago anyway.”

Anna tutted but she returned his half-smile. “We all know how stubborn you can be.”

The two were standing next to the kitchen. Mr Bates walked past and gave Thomas a frown. “What’s Mr Barrow being stubborn about?”

Anna turned to face him. “I think he might unwell and he’s ignoring it.”

“Then he’s daft.” Bates said coldly, continuing on his journey to wherever it was he was going.

Thomas glared at the back of him before he turned to Anna with a softer expression. “I’m not ill. If I do come down with something then you can say that you told me so.”

Anna tutted again and smiled at his cheek. “Very well.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and headed upstairs into the main house.

 

* * *

 

At seven o’clock, Jimmy tried on his new smart suit in his hotel room. The fit was perfect and he looked very smart and very handsome, better than normal. He ruffled his hair, put on some aftershave and et voila, he was good and ready. He’d found an interesting looking jazz club on his walk back to the inn and was excited to visit it. A young girl had approached him and whispered, “It’s a good night out.” She then gave him a coy smile before she hurried away.

 _‘I wonder if you’ll be there tonight.’_ He thought, looking at his reflection. _'You seemed fun.’_

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy pushed his way past a small gathering of young men who had congregated around the club’s entrance. He heard loud, past faced jazz coming from the other end of the club, along with noisy chatter and the clicks of women’s high heels. He snagged a small table close to the bar and sat down for a moment so he could drink in his surroundings. The room was large but it was so full that it would difficult to move past the circles of people that were spread across the room. The large bar to the right of Jimmy was very crowded but the barmen seemed to churn out pints and cocktail orders at top speed which was impressive. The dance floor was packed and Jimmy was pleased to find that the room was half full of young women, many of them unchaperoned. The all black jazz band on the stage were very talented musicians and the female lead singer had an unusual accent, although Jimmy could barely hear her over the musicians and the noisy people. Everything about this club was loud, fast and scandalous, just the way Jimmy liked it. This was heaven. He desperately wanted a drink but he decided to wait until the bar cleared a little, plus he was enjoying the clubs atmosphere and he had a good view of the young ladies on the dance floor. There was a pretty blonde close to the edge jiving away with her friend. Her dress was considerably shorter than some of the other women’s and Jimmy could see half of her thigh when she kicked her long, thin legs about. Ivy would never wear a dress like that.

Out of his right eye, he spotted another young blonde walking towards him. He turned to look at her and he received a sweet smile. She was dressed in a lilac flapper dress that was covered in silver sequins which glittered when they caught the dim lights. She was small, petite and very pretty with ivory skin and light pink lips. Her eyes were a beautiful bright blue and they reminded Jimmy of the clear sky that had covered the city earlier that day.

“Are you waiting for anyone?” She asked shyly as she lent on the edge of Jimmy’s table.

Jimmy shook his head. “I’m not love but you’re welcome to take a seat.”

She gave him a more seductive smile and slid into the chair opposite him. She indicated her head to the direction she had walked over from and giggled. “My friend Marjorie over there thinks I’m being too forward approaching you.” She had a regional accent but Jimmy couldn’t place where she was from off the top of his head.

Jimmy looked over at who he assumed was Marjorie. He saw an attractive statuesque women frowning in their direction. She was pretty enough but she had nothing on her beautiful friend that was currently sat in front of him. “She looks like she’s a barrel of laughs. What’s your name then?”

“Eleanor, Eleanor Robinson.” She said, twirling one of her blonde curls with her thin finger.

“Jimmy, Jimmy Kent.” Jimmy smiled, reaching his head out.

She laughed softly and took his hand, her smile growing when Jimmy pressed his lips to her soft skin. The two chatted for a while, exchanging small talk about who they were and their occupations. She was impressed that Jimmy was a footman, “I bet you’d look the part” and he had found that she was a shop assistant in a book store in Newcastle upon Tyne.

“I thought you were from the North East,” Jimmy smiled. “A friend of mine knowns someone in Newcastle, he’s a grocer called Sean. Do you know him?”

Eleanor had just laughed. “A grocer called Sean? Is that all you have, like? There’ll likely be tons of grocer’s called Sean in the North East, you daft sausage!”

“Do you want a drink, love?” Jimmy smiled.

“Aye, go on then.”

Three rounds of drinks later, Jimmy twirled Eleanor around the dancefloor to a racy little jazz number that had the pair of them dipping and kicking whilst they laughed the whole way through. Surrounded by fellow dancers and smoky air, Jimmy enjoyed holding the pretty girl close to him. She was slight and the sweet dip of her narrow waste was delicious. He wanted to devour her lips and sink his fingers into her flaxen curls. He ran his fingers down her spine, her thighs and her hips as she pressed herself against his crotch, purposely grinding against him. She wore a mischievous expression and blinked her baby blue eyes to drive Jimmy mad. Time quickly passed and still the lovely girl had not left Jimmy’s side even when other gents tried to cut in for a jive. Jimmy turned down his share of lasses too but right now, the little blonde Geordie was all he wanted.

At nine, Jimmy ran through York’s dark streets with Eleanor hanging off his arm. Every so often they pulled each other into an alley or a shop doorway for a quick kiss and a fumble. He was as hard as a rock and she was dripping, absolutely desperate for him. Everything about this girl made his mind dizzy with lust, from her sweet pink lips to her big eyes. Finally reaching Jimmy’s room at the inn, the couple wasted no time pulling each other’s clothes off. To hell if his neighbours heard anything, Jimmy wasn’t staying the night anyway.

“Ahhh, my god!” Eleanor cried softly, her head thrashing about on the bed as Jimmy knelt between her creamy things. “Nobody’s ever – ahh, _oh god_.”

“Shh.” Jimmy whispered before he returned to his task.

The girl’s thin things squeezed against him as she writhed wildly on the bed. She tasted fairly decent, not too salty or strange. He mouthed along the sides of her hips before he continued his previous work.  The crescendo of moans that streamed out of her mouth as she gasped and whined were beginning to irritate Jimmy but he tried to block the offending sounds from his mind as he continued to pleasure the girl. Just as she was close to tears from pleasure and frustration, Jimmy stood, dropped his trousers and slowly entered her in one steady thrust.

“My god, you’re bloody lovely.” Jimmy whispered. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Eleanor whispered as her hands gripped the headboard.

 

* * *

 

Whilst Jimmy finally indulged himself after his miserable week of madness, back at the abbey, Thomas yawned in his rocking chair and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, so physically and mentally drained that he wasn’t sure if he could even walk to his bedroom. He wondered what Jimmy was doing at this very moment.

 _‘He’s probably making love to some beautiful woman’_ , he thought sadly.

That girl would be very lucky. Jimmy said that he hoped all of the men who had fucked Thomas appreciated the time they spent with him. Right now, Thomas hoped that every single girl that Jimmy slept with, danced with or even looked at, appreciated _his_ time. He hoped that they honoured him and made him happy. He hoped they were beautiful with soft skin. He hoped that Jimmy was happy as he finally had the chance to take a girl to bed. Thomas hadn’t had sex in quite a considerable length of time either. His last full day off had been weeks ago, so long that he could barely even remember the man who had pulled him into that dark alley in Liverpool. He had been blonde, he remembered that much – a complete coincidence, he wasn’t looking for a replacement Jimmy. He had actually been following another man who was little older than him but the blonde had other ideas, clearly. Thomas had not minded as the blonde had been younger and better looking. He pulled Thomas’s pants down in a matter of seconds and after finding that Thomas had the brains to stretch and lubricate himself before going out, he thrust into him before Thomas was even able get a word in edgewise. That blonde wasn’t as blonde as Jimmy, nor was he as handsome. He wasn’t as fit or as sweet but he had been enough for that night.

“Thanks,” the mystery blonde had grunted afterwards. “You’re a good fuck.”

That’s all Thomas ever was, _a good fuck_.

 

* * *

 

“That was amazing.” Eleanor whispered as she lay in the middle of the bed, draped in sweat. A drop of Jimmy’s release was still on the side of her pointed chin.

“Come here,” Jimmy smiled, wiping his mess from her face. He tapped his thumb against her lips to encourage her to open her mouth. He watched Eleanor happily suckle on his thumb, the same way she had taken his member moments earlier. “I’ve got to catch a train soon, love. I’ve bought the room for the night though. You can stop here if you need to.”

Jimmy pulled his clothes on and started to pack his suitcase with the few possessions he brought. The cheeky bottles of whiskey he had snagged on his back to the inn needed to be wrapped up in his old suit, along with the bottle of red wine that he had snatched for Thomas. He didn’t consider himself a complete criminal since the shop keeper had not kept an eye on her stock whilst she nattered away on her phone. It was her own fault; she left the bloody shop door open. Once everything was sorted, he prepared to leave.

“Can’t you stay a little bit longer, like?” Eleanor pouted.

She tried to make herself look demure and sweet, like a lost puppy or an angel faced child but looking at the girl now, Jimmy found that she had lost the sparkle that had entranced him. Her blonde curls were now hanging limp against her too thin jaw and makeup was smudged across her face. Her beautiful skin was not as beautiful as it had been when Jimmy watched her dancing in the club. Her blue eyes were just blue, her lips just pink and her skin was just skin, nothing special. Something was nagging in his mind, reminding him that someone out there had far prettier, paler skin but he couldn’t think who. It was rather tragic to look such a dishevelled young girl after she had appeared so magical.

“No, I’ve got to catch a train. Take care.” Jimmy smiled sadly. She had been a good fuck, nothing more.

 

* * *

 

“Mr Barrow, do you want a game of cards? Alfred asked.

“Not tonight, Alfred.” Thomas replied in a bored tone.

“Alright,” Alfred said disappointedly. “Do you want to play charades?”

Thomas tutted and glared at Alfred in irritation. “No, I don’t want to play charades! Read the newspaper or something. Better yet, go to bed. You need to up for school, don’t you?”

“Well there’s no need to snap, Mr Barrow. Oh – the other day when I was down in village, I saw a farmer chasing after this dog he had –“Alfred babbled, causing Thomas to put his head into his hands in defeat.

He hoped Jimmy had found better company.

* * *

 

At ten to eleven, Jimmy piled into a third class carriage and sank into a seat with a heavy sigh. Two other men followed and sat close together at the other end of the carriage. They were reading a humorous article in a newspaper, nudging each other and laughing. The taller of the two had slightly darker hair and he was paler, whilst the smaller had mousy hair. They weren’t unlike Jimmy and Thomas when they relaxed together in the servant’s hall or their bedrooms. The darker haired man in the carriage wasn’t as dark as Thomas or as pale. He wasn’t as handsome either. His nose was too rounded, his cheeks were not as defined and his lips were too thin. The other man wasn’t as good looking at Jimmy either for he was a very plain looking fellow. Jimmy and Thomas made a much more attractive pair when they joked and laughed together. Thomas’s red mouth always looked nice when he laughed. Jimmy wished that Eleanor had been more satisfying. She had been good enough, that was for sure but Jimmy still felt hollow and unfulfilled. The best moment for him was when she wrapped her lips around him. If only her lips had been more red. If she had Thomas’s lips that would have been an even more pleasing sight. Red always looked so good against skin.

‘ _Thomas must look good when he does that’_ Jimmy thought, staring out of the window into darkness. The silver stars shone brightly against the backdrop of the night sky, reminding him of his friend’s hair and eyes. ‘ _I wonder if Thomas has done that._ ’

A couple of stops later, Jimmy’s companions left the carriage, giving Jimmy a polite nod before they left. He watched them walk away together, the smaller man pulling the taller along the platform. Jimmy wondered if they were good friends. Solitude had always suited him but he wished that Thomas was with him now so they could chat and laugh like those two men had done. By the time Jimmy returned to the abbey, Thomas may have already gone to bed so he would have to tell him about Eleanor tomorrow.

‘ _Would a queer be better at pleasuring a man? They’ve got a prick too so do they know how to get a man off better?_ ’ he wondered. ‘ _Thomas must have a decent bit of experience_.’

Jimmy wondered what would have happened if it had been Thomas in York tonight, not Jimmy. Would it have been as easy for him to pick someone up? What would he notice about another man apart from those signal things he had told Jimmy about? What would another man notice about Thomas? Would he notice his tall, lean body as he stood proud against the wall of a club? Perhaps the other man would see Thomas’s face and feel his heart skip a beat as he drank in Thomas’s pale skin, ridiculous cheekbones and strawberry mouth. Would the other man be nice or a brute when he approached Thomas? Would he offer him a drink? Thomas would never turn down a drink and if it’s free, Thomas called it a good score. Would the man be patient or would he immediately slide his hand across Thomas’s arm or his thing, maybe his waist? The man might lean close to Thomas and whisper to him before he indicated for them to leave. Where would the man take Thomas? Perhaps he would lead him to an alley or would he have to take Thomas to some back room in a brothel? Which was worse? Homosexual men need to use some kind of lubricant before they can be fucked, everyone knew that...so who would provide it? Would it be the other man or would Thomas have to pass whatever he had to the other man? What if the man just thrust straight into Thomas? Would Thomas want that? Or would the man encourage Thomas to kneel? Maybe he liked the thought of Thomas’s mouth enveloping him, taking him into the back of his throat like Eleanor had done for Jimmy.

The gentle motion of the train and all of the day’s excitement had exhausted Jimmy. In the past, if he ever had any strange thoughts about men he had always pushed them to the back of his mind and imagined Lady Anstruther’s maid Jenny prancing around in her secret lingerie collection for him. Now he was too tired to stop his thoughts from straying into the uncharted territory that was...Thomas. It was all fine, wasn’t it? It was just a fantasy, nothing more. Thomas said himself that Jimmy was going through a rough time. He had gotten hard for Eleanor and he definitely had wanted her terribly when they had run through the streets like mad youths, therefore Jimmy wasn’t a nancy. If Thomas was no less of a man for taking a cock up his arse then Jimmy was allowed to indulge in a little fantasy of a skilled queer between his legs.

His mind conjured up an image of Thomas on his knees with his eyes downcast. Jimmy could see his lovely long eyelashes. Thomas was reaching toward the raised fabric between Jimmy’s legs. Jimmy spread his legs wider to touch himself as he pictured Thomas’s edging closer to unzip Jimmy’s fly. He would help jimmy shuck his trousers and underwear down to free Jimmy’s erection. Thomas would look up, his blue eyes round and yes, _that_ was how a woman was supposed to look when she tried to appear innocently sensual. The expression that was written across fantasy Thomas’s face was _perfect_. His eyes pleaded with Jimmy, begging for permission to pleasure him.

“Go on then, you want it.” Jimmy whispered.

He received a small, mischievous smirk that was so typical of Thomas, so bloody typical. He would lean forwards, his soft, warm breathe tickling Jimmy’s skin. Thomas was such a naughty little lavender; he bloody _worshipped_ cock. He would give Jimmy’s head a gentle kiss, followed by a sweet kitten lick to the tip. He would continue to gently lap at Jimmy’s member, running his tongue across a vain to left underside. He knew how to touch Jimmy, how to perfectly tease him because he was so _good_. He looked damn good doing this as well, absolutely unbelievable. Nobody could dislike Thomas Barrow after they saw the man on his knees for them. His cherry lips would redden further once he took Jimmy's member into his pert little mouth. His sharp cheekbones would be softened by a light rose blush and his long eyelashes would fan out as he happily sucked Jimmy, completely content to be kneeling on the train carriage floor. Fantasy Thomas had no stiff pomade in his hair so Jimmy could run his fingers through his soft ebony locks and occasionally, he could tug a few strands to draw muffled moans from Thomas’s lips that would vibrate down his length, creating further waves of arousal that would wash over Jimmy like a tide. No woman could take a man’s length so well, not like this.

“Swallow love, come on. You love it, sweetheart.” Jimmy whispered, his eyes now closed as he watched his fantasy Thomas nod and whimper. “That’s right, _suck_.”

Thomas’s cheeks hollowed as he dipped his head down and took all of Jimmy down his tight throat.

“Christ, I can feel it! I can fucking _feel it_ , darlin’, your throat. Keep going.” Jimmy whispered, lost in his imagination.

Everything seemed to wrap around Jimmy, from Thomas’s lips to the heavy air. He saw stars behind his eyes and his body dropped as he threw his head back in ecstasy whilst Thomas took everything, everything Jimmy gave him. Not one single drop was spilt, not one drip wasted as Jimmy _let go_ , pushing Thomas down further to swallow every last –

_Tap._

“Come on lad, get a move on. I’m opening your door, it’s your stop.”

Praise the lord that the two men from earlier had shut the front blinds in the carriage.

 

Jimmy enjoyed his walk back to the abbey. The stars and the moon were so bright that the dark country lanes didn’t seem eerie; in fact it was quite pleasant considering it was almost midnight. Jimmy felt like the universe was welcoming him home. He finally saw the abbey in the distance, lit by a few yellow lights that were dotted here and there. Making his way round to the servant’s entrance, Jimmy let unlocked the door with the spare key that Carson had graciously allowed him to borrow. Before York, the abbey had felt oppressive and suffocating for Jimmy as the house had become too familiar and repetitive. Now he felt happy to back and he hoped that tomorrow would be an easy, gentle day for him. Downstairs was mostly in darkness but the servant’s hall was lit. As Jimmy rounded the corner, he peered into the room and saw that Thomas was sound asleep in his rocking chair. He looked peaceful, like a sleeping lamb.

 _‘You pictured him on his knees for you.’_ taunted a cruel voice in Jimmy’s head.

He approached his friend and shook his left shoulder. “Oi, you need to wake up.”

Thomas stirred and blinked, slowly sitting up in his chair. After a yawn and an eye rub, he stared blearily at Jimmy. “Oh you’re back. Hello.”

“Hello yourself, Mr Sleepy Head. You’re ready for bed, mate.” Jimmy smirked.

Thomas yawned again and stretched. “Yeah, I’m knackered. Did you find a girl?”

Jimmy smiled and nodded, “Yes, she was called Eleanor and she was alright. Now come on Mr Barrow, you can hear the tale of my conquest tomorrow.”

“Conquest,” snorted Thomas. “You say that like you rescued a princess from a dragon.”

Jimmy gave his arm a gentle smack and directed Thomas towards the door. “You just get yourself to bed, you cheeky bugger. You look like a dead man walking. Honestly, am I going to have to tuck you into bed? Why were you still down here? Did you wait for me?”

Thomas yawned again at the bottom of the staircase. “Nope, I didn’t actually. I was tired, couldn’t be arsed to move and then Alfred’s blabbering did it, I fell asleep from boredom. That git didn’t wake me up, did he?”

As the two men walked up the stairs towards the attic, Jimmy watched Thomas like a hawk in case he fell asleep on his feet. He reached an arm out to support Thomas’s back as an extra precaution. Thomas felt firm beneath his fingers, strong and slightly muscled. His black jacket was fitted to his body perfectly and his narrow waist somewhat reminded Jimmy of a woman’s. He was tempted to move his hand slightly to the right so he could cup the other man’s hip and see if Thomas’s waist really did feel similar to a girl's. Jimmy supposed that he would be the same as his livery was also fitted to his body too. Perhaps it wasn’t really a womanly shape at all? Perhaps it was simply a human shape?

“I’m alright, Jimmy. I’m a big boy. I can walk up the stairs just fine.” Thomas joked.

“I’m not going to be held responsible if you fall backwards.” Jimmy whispered, nudging Thomas forward. He pushed his friend a little too far because Thomas tripped on the last step and stumbled. Jimmy quickly wrapped an arm around Thomas’s waist to stop him from crashing to the floor whilst Thomas gripped the banister for further support. The two men couldn’t move as they lapsed into silent giggles, both of them turning slightly red as they tried not to make any sound. Jimmy put both of his hands on Thomas’s hips (which confirmed that Thomas did indeed have a nice waist) and held the other man close to him. He tried to pull Thomas up but at that moment, Thomas had taken a step forward and Jimmy almost lost his balance as well.

“Are you familiar with this position?” Jimmy teased whilst he tried to not to splutter.

Thomas straightened himself up and turned his head to smirk at Jimmy. “Shut up.” He whispered back, giving Jimmy a rude gesture.

It took the men almost five minutes to tip-toe down the attic corridor. Thomas carefully turned his door handle and gave Jimmy one final cheeky grin before he slipped into his room. Jimmy had snorted and continued to sneak towards his own bedroom door. Hus door handle gave a tiny squeak and he automatically scrunched up his face, praying to a god that he didn’t believe in to make sure that Carson didn’t wake up. Once his handle turned, Jimmy slowly stepped into his room and silently closed his door.

“Oh bugger, I’ve left my suitcase downstairs.” He whispered. “I forgot to give Thomas his wine as well, fuck’s sake.”

His bloody suitcase would just had to remain in the servant’s hall for the night. Jimmy would bring it upstairs in the morning. He was disappointed because he wanted to end the night with one final toast to himself and to women, along with all the pleasures they bring.

‘ _Not as much pleasure as your little queer when he kneels for you’_. The bitter voice in his head spat.

Jimmy settled himself in bed and tried to not give too much consideration over him imagining his homosexual friend sucking him off. It was just a daft thought, all for fun. Jimmy had been frustrated, still aroused and bored. He’s young and he’s just considering experimentation. Jimmy hadn’t had Thomas do that to him in reality so it was nothing serious. He was a handsome man who had a few features that Jimmy, being a heterosexual, could appreciate because he could picture them on a woman.

_‘Then why didn’t you imagine a girl version of him?’_

He was tired; he didn’t have the energy to create an imaginary woman.

‘ _You’ve already create a female version of him before’._

“Fuck off voices in my head. I was just tired and curious. Thomas had told me that he had been with me so those two men reminded me of us and I’d just shagged a _lass,_ wanted more, thought of him and how he’d take it from a man so there, it makes sense.” Jimmy whispered to himself.

There was nothing more to it, he had told himself. Nothing more to it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I'm sorry if I say this too much. I'm just very excited that you're reading my first fanfiction so I apologise for being too eager. Just think of me as a small puppy wagging excitedly it's tail at your feet.


	4. A Quick Little Note Before The Official Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't actually a chapter...my apologies.  
> I just want to clear a couple of issues up before I go on with my story....

**NOT AN OFFICIAL CHAPTER, I'M SORRY.**

**Please bear with me for just one moment.**

 

I've just remembered at around the current time of my story, Anna was raped by Mr Green at an earler date in the TV show if I'm correct. I haven't watched Downton since the Christmas special and I honestly have not had the chance to quickly recap any of the timescales and events from the show. I apologise for this.

For the sake of this story, I'm going to be cheeky and alter a few little bits here and there. I'm enjoying writing about Thomas and Jimmy too much and everything will focus on their relationship so in all honesty, what happens to the other characters isn't necessarily imporant for this story. I know it can be annoying when an author chops and changes things and misses out key events so I apologise if this will irk some people.

Anna has not been assaulted by Mr Green, instead he has only attempted to hurt her (which is still a serious crime). She's distressed from this, Mr Bates has yet to find out about the attempted assault and only Mrs Hughes currently knows about it. Mr Green has still convienetly died in a car accident but this time, his death is not considered suspicious by the police. Lord Gillingham is barely of any importance but he'll pop up here and there. The servants can hear about his death in a newspaper and Anna, Mr Bates and Mrs Hughes can know that a dangerous man is no longer able to harm/attempt to harm another person. This is what is going to happen in this story just because it makes the story less complicated and I can concentrate on Thomas and Jimmy without having to worry too much about my story being completely accurate.

This is fanfiction and little bits and pieces can be altered here and there for the sake of the boys, can't they? Again, I'm sorry if this will annoy anyone.

Come on, Thomas and Jimmy did not fall in love in the TV so let's just indulge in this alternate reality. It also means that poor Anna has not had to suffer from actual rape so soon she and Bates can be happier.

I'm just being a little bit lazy with details really but again, it just makes it easier for me to churn out updates quicker and focus on the lads.

 

I will hopefully update this story soon as I'm currently writing Chapter 4 (technically 5 but this doesn't count as a chapter, ha ha). I hope I can upload the next installment before Thursday afternoon.

_Thank you and I hope you undersand._

 

Please feel free to let me know how you feel about and if you wish, leave me some suggestions/reminders of what can happen in the background.

I can tell you that Thomas is going to have some fun in America...so hurrah! That's a treat to look forward to. Poor Jimmy can just pine away for his friend.


	5. The High Seas of Infinate Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary was right about the handsome stewards on the boats, oh was she just.  
> Jimmy misses his friend.  
> Ivy puts Jimmy in his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally, finally updated my story.  
> You don't anticipate how long it can take you to edit a chapter, do you? I think in future, I may have to shorten my chapters because this took a very long time.  
> The only time another chapter will be as long as this is if it's important and necessary.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm really taking my time with this plot but rest assured, Thomas and Jimmy will end up together in the end. For how long, who can say?

 

The day after Jimmy returned from his trip to York, he found that his wish for an easy, gentle day had been granted. The Crawley’s had not requested much from their servants, their guests had left and Carson had appeared to be in a rather relaxed mood (for Carson). Mrs Patmore did not bellow at Daisy and Ivy all day, bar the evening meal rush, and the rest of the staff appeared to be in high spirits. Once again, Jimmy sat relaxing in servant’s hall after the working day. Daisy was reading a slim red book at the top of the table, Ivy was quietly babbling away to Alfred and Mr Bates was reading a newspaper as he waited for Anna to return from Lady Mary’s bedroom. After a few quiet moments, Thomas swept into the room wearing a confused expression.

“Ah Mr Bates, you’re still here.” He announced as he strode around the table to sit next to Jimmy.

“Indeed I am, Mr Barrow.” Bates grumbled. “Is there something you want?”

“Yep.” Thomas answered, slipping a cigarette between his teeth. “His Lordship has just asked me to accompany him to American instead of you. Do you know about that?”

Mr Bates nodded and gave Thomas a tight smile. “I do know about it, thank you Mr Barrow.”

Thomas shrugged and lit his cigarette. “I just wanted to check that I wouldn’t be treading on your toes.”

He considered Thomas for a moment before his ruffled his newspaper. “I appreciate that, Mr Barrow.” Bates found it suspicious and slightly uncomfortable that Thomas had been considerate for once, whereas in the past he would have accepted Lord Grantham’s wishes without a care as to how Bates felt.

The two men had not been able to help themselves from competing slightly in the recent past, just as Thomas and William had. Mr Bates was aware that in any other household he would never have become valet to the Master of the house, not when a stronger, more physically able man had been available. Thomas was cunning and handsome whilst Bates was weathered, crippled and despite Bates never having considerable vanity, he had not been able to help himself from feeling inadequate and plain when he had stood next to the sleek footman. Looks and wit did not account for loyalty, friendship and trustworthiness however, three things that Bates always had in his favour. Besides, Anna always told him that his face was warm and perfectly lovely. His Lordship and Mr Carson had seen that for all Thomas’s ambition, his heart and his favour did not lie with the family or the rest of the staff, only with himself. It wasn’t until Bates saved Thomas from being thrown out on his ear that the younger man seemed to ground himself and appreciate the people he had around him. This small moment of polite consideration from Thomas was a sign to Mr Bates that Thomas had appreciated the help he had received from Bates. Perhaps from now on, Thomas could improve his attitude and finally show him genuine respect.

The rest of the staff remained quiet, waiting before they spoke in case the two older men began to argue. Despite Thomas being kept on at the abbey, the rest of the staff knew that the two men’s brief alliance did not help them bloom into bosom buddies, far from it. Daisy glanced uncertainly at the two men before she returned her attention to her book.

“No more snarky comments from now on Are you two on your way to becoming civil?” Jimmy sneered.

“Pigs haven’t flown yet, Jimmy.” Thomas shook his head.

A small smile flickered against the corners of Mr Bates mouth. “And hell is still burning.”

Gentle voices that belonged to Anna and Mrs Hughes could be heard in the corridor as the women’s footsteps drew closer. Anna bid the housekeeper goodnight before she popped her head around the entrance to the servant’s hall.

“Mr Bates, are you ready to go?” She smiled.

Her husband stood up. “That’s my cue. Yes, I’m ready. Good night.”  He nodded to the group.

“Good night to you all.” Anna smiled at the group.

As the couple left, the remaining servants returned to their quiet chatter. Ivy whittled away about something superficial whilst Alfred drank up every single word that fell from her lips. Jimmy shot them disapproving scowls every so often which amused Thomas, who in turn gave Jimmy knowing looks. Daisy kept her nose in her book.

“Well, I’m off for a smoke. G’night.” Thomas yawned.

“Good night, Mr Barrow.” Daisy smiled. “I’m going to go to bed too. Are you coming Ivy?”

Ivy nodded and stood from her chair. “I suppose I better or Mrs Patmore will go on all day about our purple eyes, we’d never hear the end of it. Good night Alfred. Good night, Mr Barrow.”

Jimmy scoffed. “No good night for me then?”

Ivy turned to glare at him whilst Thomas laughed, shaking his head as he walked out of the room. Jimmy’s frustration with Ivy’s attitude had been bothering him immensely since their disastrous date. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had only tried to kiss her for heaven’s sake; he didn’t try to bloody force himself onto her. Simple country girls were such _babies_.

“No because I don’t wish you a good night at all. You don’t deserve a good night in my eyes because you’re always rude to me. We’ve all had a nice day and now you’re spoiling it.” Ivy cried, glaring daggers at Jimmy.

Jimmy stood up too so he wasn’t staring up at her. “Oh come on!”

“You used to be so charming and sweet but now that I refuse to go any distance with you, look at you! You just sit there and scowl at me like a nasty old wolf. You affect everyone’s mood. Mr Barrow is more pleasant than you are and that’s saying something!” Ivy snapped whilst Alfred watched her, nodding.

“She has a point, Jimmy.” said Daisy quietly. “It’s none of my business though so I’ll leave you all to it.”

She scurried out of the door just as Thomas came back into view.

“Did I hear someone taking my sacred name in vain?” He snickered as his eyes shone with amusement. When Thomas’s eyes lit up, Jimmy normally found it quite endearing but he was currently too irritated to find any charm in his friend’s delight.

Ivy turned to face Mr Barrow. “I just said that you were more pleasant than Jimmy, Mr Barrow.”

Thomas snorted and lent against the doorframe, accentuating his height and lean frame.  “Well how kind.”

Ivy blushed. “I didn’t mean any offense, Mr Barrow. For all you can be... _difficult_ ,” she stammered as she selected her words carefully. “You’re a gentleman at heart, unlike Jimmy here.”

Thomas snorted as Jimmy stood dumbfounded. Jimmy pulled himself together and shot Alfred a dark look. “Oh come on, as if you’re a bloody patron saint! You’re after her just like I was.”

Alfred stood up as well and was about to snap when a very vexed looking Mrs Hughes marched into the room. Thomas moved himself away from the wall and took the seat that Daisy had vacated so Mrs Hughes could address the group without obstruction. The other three servants braced themselves for whatever the housekeeper had to say.

“What on earth are you all squabbling about at this ridiculous hour? You should all be in bed, especially you Ivy. What’s the matter for heaven’s sake? Mr Barrow, you shouldn’t encourage them to bicker.”

Thomas looked up at her. “This all needs to be said, Mrs Hughes. There’s been a bit of conflict between the young one’s here.”

 “You’re one of the young one’s too.” Jimmy huffed. It always bothered him when Thomas made himself out to be much wiser just because he was a little older. He had a flashback to one of their previous conversations.

_“Back in my day –“ Thomas had started._

_“I was young back then as well Thomas, they were my days too.” Jimmy had retorted._

_His friend laughed, “yeah, but I was five then and you weren’t born.”_

_“You’re six years older than me. What can you honestly remember properly from being five that made them your days?”_

_“The days when you didn’t exist.” His friend had said smugly._

_“Oh shut up.”_

_“I have six years more experience than you.”_

_“Oh yes, twenty eight, Mr Barrow. Oooh. What a mature age, you must have so much knowledge and wisdom. You’ve seen a lifetime, more than Mr Carson or anyone.”_

_“You shut up.”_

Back in the present, Thomas was answering the housekeeper, “This isn’t my problem, Mrs Hughes. I’m just keeping watch over the children.”

“You mean you’re being nosey.” corrected Mrs Hughes as she tapped him on the shoulder. “Come away then Mr Barrow, you look very tired. Have your last smoke and get to bed so these young one’s as you call them can settle their quarrels.”

Thomas shrugged and hopped to his feet. “As you wish, Mrs Hughes. Settle your quarrels children and get yourselves to bed.”

“Oh, away with you!” Mrs Hughes scolded him with half of a smile playing at the corner of her lip. After she had seen Thomas standing in the rain when he had almost been kicked to the curb with no reference, she had developed a sort of soft spot for him. He had looked so forlorn, broken and strangely childlike in that moment. He did have a ‘Peter Pan’ quality to him, a little something that had never quite grown up; an underlying innocence and childish pettiness. He was also vulnerable and very sensitive. He had been a naughty trouble maker, there was no doubt about that, but it had shocked her when she realised that had he left, Downton would never be the same again. She had known him since he was a young lad, just a mere wisp of a thing. He had been to war and now lives with a daily reminder of his tribulations. He had saved the children from a wicked nanny. He had amused her over the years with his cheek, although she would never admit it out loud. Elsie Hughes had some affection for the lad and although this troubled her, for Thomas was utterly unpredictable and every moment she spent around him felt like she was walking on a knife edge, she was also quite moved by her genuine concern for the man.

The pair walked out of the servant’s hall together. Mrs Hughes went to join Mr Carson in his office whilst Thomas headed outside to have his last smoke before the doors were locked, leaving Jimmy, Alfred and Ivy standing in a triangle formation around the dining table. Alfred looked as sour as ever as his gangly arms hung stiff by his sides. Ivy’s hands rested on her hips whilst Jimmy stood with his in his pockets. An uncomfortable tension filled the room.

“You started the glaring.” Jimmy finally muttered.

Ivy stamped her foot in frustration and tutted, rolling her eyes. “You ignored me as soon as our silly date was over! You just brushed past me even when I tried to be nice to you the next morning. I wondered if I had been too sensitive and childish but I see now that I wasn’t. I was willing to put it behind us and I would have been friends with you but you wouldn’t have it. I wouldn’t carry on with you so you were finished with me. I got no more smiles or compliments. Even Mr Barrow has treated me better and that’s saying something since he never bothers with me! He teases me and he snaps but he’s always helped me carry heavy things or he’s given me and Daisy a smile...sometimes. He breezes through the kitchen to say good morning even after one of us has told him off for something! Alfred here is kind – always has been. You just cut people off because you’re so selfish! That says something, doesn’t it?” She crossed her arms, her face stony.

Jimmy opened his mouth to argue but words failed him. Ivy had a point.

Alfred gave him a smug smile. “There you go Jimmy, that’s you put in your place. I’m going to bed. Well done, Ivy.” He gently patted her arm and smiled at her. “Goodnight - except for _you_.” He spat at Jimmy.

Ivy turned to watch him leave. She gave him a smile and a small wave. “I’m heading up now too, I’ve said my piece.”

“Well off you go then.” Jimmy sulked. He threw himself into a chair and crossed his arms.

She turned to face him one final time with a fixed expression. A part of her would always admire Jimmy, it couldn’t be helped. He was lovely with his golden skin and bronze hair. His eyes were a lovely blue and his lips were a light pink. He was a beautiful, handsome man and she couldn’t deny it, not even when she wanted to whack him over the head with a very heavy object. Her attraction to him only extended as far as his outer appearance for underneath, Ivy now only saw ugliness. She remembered when an old childhood friend of hers had somehow found a copy of Oscar Wilde’s scandalous novel ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’. They had read the book in secret behind her friend’s garden wall. They had made a promise to themselves and each other that they would never fall for a Dorian. When she came to Downton, she pegged Mr Barrow as a ‘Dorian’ due to his sharp good looks, pale skin and sour personality. Now she realised that it was Jimmy who was a Dorian. Mr Barrow was just a moody old so and so, perfectly harmless if he didn’t deem you to be a threat. When she had seen his genuine sorrow and grief for Lady Sybil’s passing, she realised that he had a heart after all. Jimmy didn’t have a heart, at least not yet. If he did possess one, he was unaware. If Jimmy Kent did not change his ways, she suspected he would suffer the same fate as the fictional character; he would remain beautiful but inside he would be ugly and withered, like Dorian’s painting.

“You should listen to what I’ve said.” Ivy told him firmly. “You’ll only suffer for it in the end, not me or any other girl. You’ll end up very lonely.” On that final note she left the room, leaving Jimmy to stew by himself.

Jimmy scoffed and watched her leave. He heard Thomas’s gait in the distance and his memory was proven correct when his friend sauntered into the room with a cigarette hanging from his smirking mouth. If Jimmy hadn’t been so disgruntled, he would have been in awe of Thomas’s casual display of graceful arrogance. He had a way about him did Mr Barrow, there was no denying it. Jimmy always had to try very hard to achieve any sort of swagger but somehow attitude and subtle haughtiness came naturally to the other man. His friend claimed the seat next to Jimmy again and yawned. The two men sat in silence for a few moments.

“I wasn’t actually outside; I was listening in to what Ivy had to say.” Thomas admitted. “I hope you know that she’s right.”

Jimmy knew that he was being petty and stubborn but he didn’t want to be corrected right now, especially not by his friend. He wanted some sympathy from Thomas, not wisdom or further analysis. He just didn’t want to be told that he was wrong.

Thomas shook his head. “I can see the cogs turning in your head, Kent. I know how stubborn you are but you’re acting like a child. You treat Ivy like dirt and you’ve done the same to other girls. You’ve done wrong, you’ve been told off and you don’t like it.”

Jimmy shrugged like a defiant teenager trying desperately to appear nonchalant. “I know that.”

“Of course you do, you’re just being an arse.” Thomas stated. “Are you going to sit down here in the hump all night? Apologise to Ivy in the morning and move on from it all. She’s annoyed at you but she’s not a bad person. I reckon she’ll be funny with you for a while but if you don’t pester her, she’ll cool down and there’ll be no more of this.”

“What about you?” Jimmy grumbled. “What about you and Mr Bates? You can talk.”

“Exactly.” Thomas huffed. “I’m speaking from experience. I should have apologised to Bates years ago. In fact, I should apologise to a lot of people here. I’ve either directly caused a lot of problems or I’ve been the catalyst that triggered some kind of issue. Now look where I am. None of the staff trust me, I’ve barely even got a real position and the only person who genuinely wants to talk to me is you. I fucked up, Jimmy. I know it and I’m trying to move on. I can’t do it overnight so I’m going to draw a line in the sand. Me and Bates go back now Jimmy, it’s more complex than you and Ivy. He gave me a second chance and I want to learn from it. Do you want to end up like me? I’ve told you before that you remind me of my younger self. Learn from my mistakes and learn to own up when you do wrong by someone. I schemed against people and I held long lasting grudges. O’Brien once told me that I couldn’t hold a grudge but she was wrong. I hated Bates, I hated William and I’m still furious at her, the old witch. I reckon I will be for a long time. Younger me was unhelpful and selfish –“

“You still are unhelpful and selfish.” Jimmy quipped.

Thomas huffed and rolled his eyes. “Well yeah but you know what I mean, shush.” He tried not to break into a smile as Jimmy snorted beside him. At least his friend’s mood was improving slightly. “What I’m trying to say is that I wish I could go back and just let it all go. I still think that it’s unfair that Bates was given the job of being his Lordships valet when he was absolutely crap at the start but that’s just life. That job still didn’t have my name written on it so I was just being an arse. One day, I’ll apologise to him. I just need more time and right now, I don’t think Bates would want to hear it.”

Jimmy scoffed softly and looked away. “Yeah, well you and Bates didn’t go and date and he wasn’t -“

“Jimmy,” Thomas interrupted, frowning at him. “Listen to what I’m saying for once in your life, alright? I’m being a good friend here by giving you advice because I’ve been there. Stop acting like a bloody teenager for god’s sake. It’s a similar problem. If you keep snipping at her and if you don’t apologise, you’ll end up resenting her. You’ll upset Alfred, Mrs Patmore – a lot of staff because Ivy’s well liked. You’re already friends with me so they’ll paint you with the same brush. They’ll think you’re the same jumped-up, selfish little bastard that I was. You _are_ a jumped-up, selfish little bastard but you have time to change, at least in their eyes. Apologise to her, keep your head down and you could make something of yourself without having to result to any of the daft schemes I did.”

Jimmy considered Thomas’s words and finally, he nodded. He would be an idiot to deny that Thomas was giving him sound advice. He was being stubborn and childish but seriously, he only wanted a kiss from her, nothing else. She was acting like Jimmy was a bloody rapist.

“It doesn’t matter if you only wanted a kiss.” Thomas snapped. He watched Jimmy’s eyes widen in amazement that Thomas knew what he was thinking. “I told you, I can see your wheels turning. She didn’t want a kiss, simple as that. Respect what she wants. It’s not nice when someone just puts themselves onto you. How did you feel when I – well, you know.”

Jimmy bristled at Thomas’s harsh tone. This was the first time he had ever been told off by Thomas. Normally the sun shone from Jimmy’s arse with him but now he was actually annoyed at Jimmy. He wasn’t looking at him warmly or giving him a reassuring smile. There was no fondness in his eyes. Mr Carson would be proud; however Thomas’s last comment bothered him.

“I told you we were over that so don’t. Just don’t go there. You weren’t – you didn’t do the same thing I...oh for fucks sake. Right, you’re right...” Jimmy trailed off as he suddenly understood.

Thomas sighed and leant against the back of his chair. He took another drag from his cigarette. “So there you go, you know how it feels. Didn’t I tell you that I’d been there?” Thomas spat, turning away from Jimmy. He wished he could crawl into a hole and just never come out of it.

“Shit.” Jimmy whispered. His face turned red from embarrassment and shame. “Look, let’s just never discuss that again, like we said. It’s over, remember? You...you stopped. I didn’t, alright? I kept pushing Ivy so there, I’m terrible. You stopped.”

“Well it is illegal for me.” Thomas said darkly, still not looking at Jimmy.

Jimmy shook his head in frustration. “You would have stopped even if I were a lass or if you were a lass. Just don’t...please can we move on from this? I’m not angry or disgusted, far from it. I’m upset because it upsets you. Stop being embarrassed about it, please. It’s not nice to see. I came onto Ivy just to be an arse really. You thought that you loved me, didn’t you? All I wanted was a roll in the hay, didn’t I? So there you go. It’s my fault that I thought I could just do that to her because we were on a date.”

“It’s not your fault.” Thomas shrugged. “Well, it _is_ your fault but you know what I mean. It’s something that some people, men and women, often don’t realise. It’s this...a view we have in our society where a man is told that he’s entitled to have a woman give him something like a kiss if it’s all official, like you taking Ivy out, or if you’re not pushing a lass into bed. It’s just a kiss, he’s being a perfect gentleman so why isn’t the woman cooperating? He’s entitled to something nice because he’s been nice, hasn’t he? A woman can come onto a man because if he refuses then something is either wrong or he’s queer. You see? It’s not right. Lady Sybil never agreed with that nonsense and I gave her my support when she would harp on about her women’s rights in the hospital. All of this crap needs to change, Jimmy.” He sighed and took another long drag.

None of these issues have ever crossed Jimmy’s mind. He had never even heard anyone discuss either of those problems from that perspective. This time it was Thomas who had a very good point and more shame fell upon Jimmy. It was all true, very sadly true. He himself had that exact mindset. He swallowed thickly and tried to come up with the best response to Thomas’s observations.

“Lady Sybil was an amazing person.” Thomas said suddenly. “I really liked her, you know. I thought she was the only pure soul that I had ever met. I kept away from her before we worked together in the hospital because compared to her, I felt dirty and awful. I never hated her, even before we became friends. She was the only member of the family who always said ‘good morning’ or ‘good afternoon’ when she passed me in the corridor. When we worked together, we sometimes sat together on our breaks. She was very funny but she was always very sweet. She was the person who gave me the lecture I gave you about being a better person. I knew she was right. I regret that I only fully realised how serious her message was until that day I was almost thrown out. I wish I could thank her but I can’t now.”

Jimmy swallowed again as he watched his friend take another drag from his cigarette. Thomas never discussed his relationship with Lady Sybil, not like this. He had only ever mentioned how nice she was.

“I’m sorry, Thomas. For Lady Sybil and for...well the rest of it.”

Thomas looked at him. “It’s Ivy you should apologise to, you dolt. I’ve put a bit of a damper on this haven’t I? I like talking about her though, nobody else seems to. I’m off to bed. Goodnight Jimmy, you heartbreaking scumbag.”

“Oh piss off!” Jimmy smiled as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll apologise to Ivy at some point. Maybe not tomorrow but I will.”

Thomas smiled. “Good. See you in the morning when we’re back to carrying trays and Carson and all the rest of it.”

Jimmy laughed. “Night.”

 

* * *

 

 A week later, Thomas Barrow stood before the rest of servants with his suitcase in one hand and his favourite poetry book tucked into his right arm as the others cooed around him. The time had come for Thomas to accompany Lord Grantham to New York as his valet. Now that he was under butler, he often felt rather miffed when he had to help a member of the Crawley family or a guest dress but in this circumstance, he did not mind acting as a valet at all. Thomas had never left England, save for his time in France during the war. He didn’t like to dwell on that period of his life as his ruined hand was enough of a reminder. He was able to briefly visit Paris so that could possible count for something but he didn’t count his time off from serving in the war as any sort of fantastical getaway. America was a different matter. The Dowager could disapprove of the country and criticise all things American to her heart’s content but Thomas kept his spirits up. America was supposed to be the land of the free. It’s a beautiful country with exciting new opportunities and prospects. The technology there was supposed to be more advanced and its people were supposedly more accepting and liberated. That part Thomas doubted very much, especially when it came to acceptance for people like him.

Mr Carson approached the gaggle of servants as he looked Thomas up and down, giving him a curt nod of approval. The younger man’s new suit was sharp and very well tailored, which made him look even sleeker than usual. He would undoubtedly turn a few heads. Carson had to silently admit that perhaps it was better that his Lordship took Barrow on his trip as he would make a more professional impression.

“Are you all ready then, Mr Barrow?” Mrs Hughes smiled.

“Yes, thank you Mrs Hughes.” Thomas nodded, returning her smile. It felt strange to receive so much attention and compliments from the rest of the staff as he was so used to being either ignored or merely tolerated.

Anna also smiled and handed him a brown paper bag that Mrs Patmore had plonked into her hands when she walked past the kitchen. “I hope you enjoy yourself. Here, I think Mrs Patmore made you lunch.”

Thomas looked at the paper bad in surprise. “That’s lovely, tell her I said thank you.”

“Have a nice time, Mr Barrow.” Alfred said respectively, giving him a small nod.

“Tell us about your adventures when you get back.” Jimmy smiled.

Thomas laughed softly and fidgeted on the spot. He felt rather bashful as the servants showed him kindness and interest. “I will. See you all soon, goodbye.”

Within the hour, the final preparations for Lord Grantham’s departure were made and after goodbyes from the family and staff, Lord Grantham was on his way to train station. The weather was glorious and his Lordship was in a very merry mood. Thomas took this as a good sign of luck.

“We will be staying on the ferry overnight, Barrow. I got you a room in second class if that is alright with you. You’ve given up your time to join me and I believe that you have earned it. Your comment regarding nanny West also saved my grandchildren from suffering under her rule so I thank you for that too.” Lord Grantham announced. He smiled at Thomas through the front mirror. In all honesty, Lord Grantham simply felt rather sorry for Barrow. The under butler’s past endeavours had caused numerous problems over the years but considering Barrow’s personal issues, Robert supposed that he could allow himself to show Barrow some compassion. He would hate for Barrow to go down the route of his old Eaton peer who was tormented so horrifically.

Thomas was taken aback and had to concentrate very hard to stop himself from blushing with gratitude. “Thank you my Lord, you didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense,” Lord Grantham smiled. “I would have offered the same to Bates.”

“Thank you very much, my Lord.”

Once the two men arrived at the docks, Thomas gaped in awe at the large ferry he would be travelling on. He had dreamt of being a pirate on a grand, old ship when he was a small child but nothing he had ever envision as he ran around his family’s back garden was as impressive as the beauty that stood proud before him now. Of course Thomas would be working but it was still an honour and a privilege that he would be travelling on this incredible ship.

He retrieved Lord Grantham’s suitcases and went to stand next to the Lord. They queued to board the ship and finally, two young men offered to take their cases. Other valets had handed their master’s cases over but Thomas still couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t need to carry the suitcases for once. It was a huge relief as Lord Grantham seemed to have packed everything but Mrs Patmore’s kitchen sink. He followed the young stewards and Lord Grantham as they walked through the ships corridors. They passed another man and his valet who were also being shown to a room and Thomas could have sworn that the steward opening their cabin door had given Thomas a strange look. Perhaps he had mistaken him for someone else. He tipped his chin slightly higher, pretending to ignore the stewards stare for he was a _valet_ to a great lord and he knew he looked fine in his new suit, far better than any _steward_. How rude that man was to look at him like that!

Once their group finally reached Lord Grantham’s quarters, Thomas had to resist the urge to whistle as he drank in the cabin. His Lordship’s bed looked very comfortable and the furniture was mahogany. The window had red curtains and for all it was a room in a ship, it was very cosy. Thomas felt like he was in a guest bedroom at Downton.

“This is rather nice, don’t you think Barrow?” Lord Grantham smiled. “I’m going to head to the bar after you’ve unpacked. I found out an old friend of mine is on board so I’m going to spend the evening with him. You can amuse yourself for the rest of the day, Barrow. I’ll see you at seven.”

“As you wish my Lord.” Thomas nodded.

He left Lord Grantham’s room with the young stewards that had escorted him. One of the stewards was still carrying his suitcase.

“I’ll show you to your room now, sir.” He said. “Please follow me.”

Thomas blinked. “You don’t have to if you’re busy. I’m sure I could find it on my own.”

The young steward shook his head. “No sir, it’s fine. I’ll take you there.”

The second steward bid Thomas good day and left to continue with his other duties as Thomas followed the first down the corridor.

“I could take them down for you.” Called out an unfamiliar voice from behind them.

Thomas turned to find that steward who had given Thomas a strange look was walking towards them. He looked as though he would be around the same age as Thomas, perhaps a little older or a little younger. His hair was light brown but when he passed the soft lamps that lit the walls of the corridor, flecks of gold could be seen at the top of his head. He was fairly handsome with small hazel eyes and a gentle smile. He was slightly taller than Thomas and his shoulders were a little broader but on the whole, they were an equal match.

“I’m due a break in the next fifteen minutes, Kenny. I could show this gentleman to his room and you could head to the boarding deck quicker.” The mysterious steward offered.

The other steward smiled and handed him Thomas’s suitcase. “Well if you wouldn’t mind, John. Thank you. I hope you have a pleasant journey, sir.”

“Thank you.” Thomas said, giving the boy a quick nod.

“It’s not a problem.” The steward called John smiled. “Please sir, if you would like to follow me?”

Thomas gave another nod and walked behind his new companion. This seemed very unusual but he didn’t question anything. The man was handsome anyway so he had nothing to complain about.

“Are you a valet then, sir?” John asked, giving Thomas a quick look over his shoulder. “This way to the left, please.”

“Yes, I am.” Thomas answered. He was still curious to know why this man had given him such a peculiar look earlier.

Thomas’s room was two floors down from Lord Grantham’s. His room was smaller and less decadent but it was still a pleasant cabin. The bed looked comfortable and it was quite light. He watched the steward place his suitcase on the bed and wondered what he should do. Nobody had ever shown him to his own room before and nobody had ever carried his suitcase for him. It was a strange experience.

“Would you like me to unpack for you?” The steward asked, turning to smile at Thomas.

“What?” was Thomas’s immediate reaction before he realised his reply was rude. “Oh! No, no you don’t need to do that. I’ll unpack my case.”

His steward tilted his head slightly to the left as he watched Thomas become more flustered. He found it rather adorable. He watched Thomas attempts to regain his usual formal stance but he was clearly ruffled. It was also clear that Thomas didn’t recognise him. John had seen him before in a club in Liverpool a few months prior to his placement on this ship. He would never forget a face like this man’s. His hobby was painting and he had sketched a quick drawing of Thomas on a napkin when Thomas had sat at the corner of the bar, downing a glass of whiskey. In the present, he could tell that Thomas was very unsettled by his presence but he found that it made this moment all the more endearing.

“It wouldn’t be a bother, sir.” John offered, tilting his head forward slightly.

Thomas shook his head and ran a finger along the edge of his case as a distraction. He wasn’t sure what to say or do; he just wanted the steward to leave so he would no longer feel awkward.

“It’s fine, honestly. You can go and take your break. I’m used to unpacking cases, aren’t I?” Thomas attempted to joke but his tone was flat as he felt out of sorts. There was something unsettling about all of this. It felt as though the steward was stalling for some reason.

John shrugged. “Yes, I suppose you are. My break isn’t for another five minutes or so. Do you mind me taking my time in here or would you like me to leave? You seem uncomfortable.”

 _‘I knew he was stalling.’_ Thomas thought to himself. He gave his case one last look and walked towards the small window. “No, I don’t mind you stalling for a bit. I do the same thing where I work but don’t tell his Lordship that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” John laughed. “One slacker to another.”

Thomas smirked and shook his head. “I don’t slack; I just think I’m entitled to a few breaks here and there.”

“I quite agree. Can I ask your name, sir? I’m John Brady.” The steward smiled, extending his hand.

Thomas accepted the handshake and returned the man’s smile. “Thomas, Thomas Barrow.”

“Thomas suits you.” John smiled.

“Have you stalled long enough now?” Thomas asked, realising that he his question sounded slightly rude. He winched internally, wishing his could have phrased his sentence better.

John just laughed and held his arms up in defeat. “You’re right, I have.”

Thomas shook his head, “I didn’t mean that to sound so rude. I just don’t want you to get into any trouble. You already took me to my room when you didn’t need to; you don’t need to do any more.”

“That’s very considerate, Mr Barrow. I hope you have a pleasant evening.” John smiled as a mischievous glint lit his hazel eyes. There was something about the way he looked at Thomas that seemed to suggest more than politeness or casual interest.

“It’s still early afternoon.” Thomas quipped as he allowed himself to smirk. He walked towards his case. There was something going on here, something that Thomas couldn’t quite put his finger on.

John laughed softly. “You’re as sharp as you look. Good day.”

Thomas froze as the steward left his room, closing the door quietly. He paused and stared at the door in confusion. That strange steward had given him a queer look, offered to escort him to his quarters and then complimented his appearance. He had a look in his eye that seemed so...so interested. ‘ _You’re as sharp as you look’_ repeated over and over in Thomas’s mind, like a broken gramophone. The steward hadn’t flirted with Thomas, had he?

‘No, you’re being daft.” Thomas whispered after a minute’s silence. “He was just doing his job and he wanted to skip doing a few extra duties before his break. You do that all of the time, don’t you?”

 

* * *

 

Late in the evening at Downton, Jimmy and Alfred cleared the dining room as Mr Carson oversaw the Crawley’s as they took their after dinner drinks. The family had dined earlier than usual tonight which meant that with a bit of luck, the servants would be able to have an extra hour to themselves downstairs. As Jimmy carried a tray downstairs, he wondered what Thomas doing on the ferry? He was only looking after Lord Grantham so he must have some free time. Maybe the lucky sod was sitting at a bar, chatting to some well dressed man. He snorted as he imagined an attractive young woman next to his friend instead, trying in vain to gain his attention.

“What are you laughing about?” Alfred asked, following Jimmy down the servant’s stairs.

“None of your business,” He retorted.

Alfred tutted, “you don’t have to always be so difficult.”

“You’re always have to be so nosey.” Jimmy snapped.

Anna waited at the bottom of the staircase for Jimmy and Alfred to pass so she could head upstairs for whatever reason. She sighed as the footmen reached the last few steps and she gave them both a look. They both gave her false, quick smiles which made her roll her eyes.

“You two need to stop bickering so much.” She cautioned as the men passed her. “It’s starting to get a little bit silly now, don’t you think?” She gave them a small, sad smile before she climbed the stairs.

Jimmy scoffed and marched into the kitchen, almost slamming his plate onto the bench.

“You break anything and I’ll have your guts for garters, young man!” shouted Mrs Patmore.

Ivy and Daisy giggled, shaking their heads at Jimmy. He and Alfred hurried back upstairs to finish their task whilst the rest of the Crawley’s sat comfortably in their grand drawing room with their expensive after supper drinks. Jimmy hoped that the remaining hours of the day would pass by quickly as he was missing his friend terribly, despite Thomas departing only a few hours ago.

 _‘These next two weeks are going to be fun.’_ Jimmy thought sadly.

 

* * *

 

Miles away from Downton, Thomas was having a late night smoke on the deck of the ship. Lord Grantham had given him the full night off and even had a steward deliver a message to him that his Lordship could dress himself tonight. It was heavenly for Thomas to have so much freedom for a night, even though he was confined to a ship. Normally Thomas found having a limited amount of space slightly claustrophobic, hence his outdoor smoking rituals, but he was happy on board the ferry. The sky above him was very clear, so clear that the stars appeared to shine even brighter than normal. Everything that he could see in the distance was draped in tones of blue, from the dark sea to the varying shades of night sky that stretched across the waves for miles upon miles. Thomas had not felt so peaceful for a long times, years in fact. He felt at one with the night and all of its mysteries. He had always found more comfort in the dark.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Thomas nearly dropped his cigarette as he jolted from shock. The voice belonged to the steward from earlier, John Brady. He turned around and the identity of his stranger was confirmed when John walked towards Thomas.

“Are you allowed to be out here?” Thomas asked as he took a drag from his cigarette.

John shrugged. “Well no, but I’m off for the night. I only have day shifts for the moment. Are _you_ allowed to be out here? Don’t you need to be dressing his Lordship or tucking him in?”

Thomas gave him a cold, withering look. “I got a message, I’m not needed tonight.” He wasn’t going to be insulted by a bloody steward. This man had a damn cheek!

John nodded a few times, smiling, and slowly took a few steps towards Thomas, facing the sea. The air was cold but it was quite comforting in a peculiar way.

“The sea’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He commented.

Thomas also turned but instead, he looked at the water below the ships railing as it gently lapped against the side of the boat. “Yes, it’s nice.”

John smiled softly and turned his head to look at Thomas. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to say anything but I’ve decided that I will. I know you, Thomas Barrow.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed and his lips parted slightly. A chill trickled down his spine as he swallowed thickly, wondering what the steward meant by his comment.

“Hey,” John smiled, still looking at him. “I don’t know you personally, I only found out your name today. I meant that I’ve seen you before. I recognised you straight away. I saw you in a pub in Liverpool once a good few months ago. You won’t recognise me. I drew you.”

Thomas was swallowed again and glanced nervously at John. “Pardon?”

‘ _What the fuck is he on about? He drew me?’_ Thomas thought to himself. He attempted to keep his expression neutral but he could feel a frown forming on his face.

“I’m not coming across well, sorry. I’m a good painter but I don’t fancy doing art as a career. I like sailing so I stuck with jobs like this. I draw in my spare time. You were sitting at the bar that night and I liked the look of you so I drew a sketch of you. I don’t have it with me to show you, it’s at home.”

Thomas was struck by disbelief. This was the most bizarre thing he had ever heard.

John inched closer towards Thomas so that their arms touched. “I wanted to approach you but another man beat me to it. You left with him. I was very disappointed.”

Thomas’s stomach did a flip and he could taste vomit. This was risky, it was very risky. This could be a trap…possibly. It was too good to be true, _too romantic_. He knew that he had good looks but he was not worthy of any kind of drawing or painting. He wasn’t worthy of such notice. He felt himself begin to shake slightly and he hoped it was not noticeable.

“Thomas,” John whispered as he touched Thomas’s arm gently. “I’m the same, you know? Women have never been to my taste either, if you get my drift. I’m amazed that I’ve been able to meet you. I never expected to ever see you again. You were one of the one’s who got away.”

This couldn’t be real, he was dreaming. Thomas was going to wake up and find himself back in his cot at Downton. He would walk down to breakfast and find that Mr Bates was in America. He and Jimmy would play cards later on. Mr Carson would keep throwing him disapproving looks. Mrs Patmore would be shouting at Ivy. Anna would be missing her husband. His current environment was not reality but John’s grip on his arm tightened and he was pulled closer to the other man. That was very much real.

“I’m sorry if I’m scaring you, please don’t be afraid. I’m not going to run off the any police officers or anyone on board. Please don’t think anything like that or that this is a trap. I know what it feels to be scared of that, we all do! I was wondering if you would spend the night with me. You’re handsome. I like your attitude. I might never see you again.” John whispered.

Thomas shot glances in all directions, checking to see if anyone had overheard them. This conversation was taking place out in the open; anyone could round the corner of the entrance and find them tucked away at the side of the deck. He knew that he probably looked terrified or shocked. John was holding his arm tightly, leaning close to him. They could get into trouble or John could. Lord Grantham would be informed and Thomas could not be a victim in his eyes. He knows what Thomas is. He would be fired this time for sure. He would be chucked onto New York’s streets. He would be sent back to Downton to be reported to the authorities. He would be put in jail or kicked to the curb. He would have no reference. He would not be able to get a job. He would either have to do hard manual labour for a pittance, run off to somewhere abroad or he would be a whore - filth. Hell he could be thrown overboard right now!

“Hey,” John whispered again. This time he slipped his arm around Thomas’s waist. “Nobody is around, don’t worry. Its fine if you don’t want to, I’ll understand. We all have our tastes.”

Thomas hated himself for this but he could have cried. It was rare that a person, especially an eager man, showed such compassion and consideration to the person they were interested in. Thomas was used to being heckled, followed, persisted and even threatened when he didn’t show immediate interest or compliance. Jimmy had been pushy with Ivy. Edna had been pushy with Mr Branson, he had figured that out. He suddenly had an idea of who could replace her Ladyship’s maid but that was of no importance at this moment.

“Yes. I’ll…spend the night with you.” Thomas whispered, although he pushed John away.

Despite this, the steward grinned and leant forward to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. “I’m thrilled. I’m also amazed that the deck is empty. Luck is on my side today. I’ll come to your room in an hours’ time. Is that alright?”

Thomas nodded and John hurried off, throwing him a humorous, cheeky wink before he rounded the corner.

_‘How can he be so happy? How can he be so open?’_

 

* * *

 

“Jimmy, I have some picture cards if you want to play slapjack.” Daisy offered.

Jimmy, Daisy, Ivy, Alfred and Anna were sitting around the servant’s table. Ivy and Alfred were keeping to themselves at the top whilst Anna took a neutral stance and sat close to the centre, reading a newspaper. Jimmy was in an irritable mood but since there was nothing else to do and he and Alfred were not on a speaking basis outside of working hours, he supposed he would take up Daisy’s offer.

“Go on then.” He shrugged, sitting up straight in his seat.

Daisy smiled and laid her cards face down on the table. “Anna, would you like to play?”

Anna looked up and shook her head. “No thank you, Daisy. Mr Bates won’t be too much longer, he’s just speaking to Mrs Hughes. We’re heading off earlier tonight since his Lordship is away.”

“Ivy, Alfred, would you like to play?” Daisy asked.

They both shook their heads and smiled.

“No thank you, Daisy.” Alfred replied. “What pictures are on your cards?”

“Animals.” Daisy said, holding up an example. The card had a drawing of a dog.

Jimmy yawned and stretched his arms as Daisy shuffled the cards. He missed Thomas.

 

* * *

 

 _Knock knock_.

Thomas froze by the window in his cabin when he heard the two quiet taps on his door. He hadn’t felt this nervous since the night he tried to kiss Jimmy. God, he hated thinking about that night and how stupid he was. What on earth has possessed him and made him think that what he did was a good idea? He was just as pushy as the men he had encountered. He was just as pushy as the men Lady Sybil had complained about. He tasted more vomit in his throat.

 _‘Love,’_ whispered a small voice in his head. _‘Love possessed you.’_

His door opened and John slipped into his room. He had a bottle of wine in his hands and a happy grin on his face. Thomas still felt slightly sick but seeing another man looking at him with such joy, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to forget about the disastrous, terrible night with Jimmy. He wanted to feel another person’s skin against his and he wanted someone to take him on a clean bed, not some make shift pile of crap or over a wall in an alley. This was a one night thing but Thomas just wanted to feel somewhat loved, just this once.

“Hello.” John greeted, his smile turning mischievous. “I come with a gift.” He held out the bottle of red wine for Thomas to inspect. “I nicked it from the kitchens.”

Thomas smiled softly. “That was naughty.”

John shrugged and grinned. “Do you want a drink then? I even have glasses in my back pockets. They’re champagne glasses but who cares? It’s a glass.”

Thomas nodded and sat down on the edge of his bed as John poured the drinks. He felt nervous, like he was a teenager all over again. Thomas remembered his first relationship with Evan, the older brother of the little girl who had fancied him throughout his school years. He felt nervous around him once he realised that he felt drawn to Evan. He remembered the shock he received when Evan kissed him under a large oak tree. He remembered all the little presents he used to bring for Thomas and how he used to always walk in front so he could beat away stray branches and bushes. The night that Evan took Thomas’s virginity was one of his most special memories. He had felt sick from nerves and worry, just like he did now. He almost panicked but Evan was very gentle when he patiently coaxed him with soft words and butterfly kisses. He had only been twelve years old at the time and Evan was only fourteen. Now Thomas thought about it, how did Evan know what to do at such a young age? Had Thomas been ready at twelelve? He lost his virginity when he was twelve? God, he was still practically a baby then. No wonder he was a head case. He kissed a sleeping, heterosexual man. He can’t be kind to others. He can’t stop smoking. He has enjoyed sex in filthy alleys.

“Here you go.” John handed Thomas a champagne glass full of wine. He considered the valet for a moment before he gave him a lazy smile. “You’re a dreamy one, aren’t you?”

Thomas blinked twice as he returned from his thoughts. He took the champagne glass. He felt like he was in a daze “This is new, wine in a champagne glass. Yeah, I suppose I drift off a bit.” He couldn’t quite look John in the eye. His voice felt as though it was disconnected from his mouth.

John sat next to him on the bed and placed the bottle of wine at his feet. He edged closer to Thomas and lifted his glass it initiate a toast. The two men carefully tapped their glasses together and smiled. John watched Thomas as he swirled his wine around in the glass before he tasted it. Thomas was lovely to look at and if he could, he would watch him all day. His pale skin looked very smooth and clear like china or porcelain. His dark hair contrasted with his stark paleness and his prominent, fine cheekbones looked so chiselled and strong, yet somehow quite delicate at the same time. He had a red mouth that was very tempting. In any other situation, John would have been more forward and likely would have already started kissing the man, but Thomas felt different from his other partners. There was an air of melancholy about him that was both tragic and very hypnotic all at once. He wanted to take things slow tonight and savour each moment that he spent with the valet because this was a man who he never expected to see again. Small world.

“It’s alright.” John smiled encouragingly. “Why don’t we just have a chat for now whilst we finish this bottle?”

“Yeah,” Thomas nodded. “Where did you grow up?” He tried to allow John to distract him from his thoughts.

“I’m from Nottingham. My parents are Irish, hence the sir name but my mother had me and my brother take elocution lessons so we could find work easier, not that my voice is anything special. I don’t sound posh at all. I reckon that by the sound of your voice, you hail from the North West? Manchester area?” John asked as he took a drink of wine.

Thomas smiled. John had just succeeded in distracting him. “Yeah, I was born in Manchester but we moved when I was very small to a village that was close to the Yorkshire border. I won’t even bother with its name; it was a really tiny place.”

“I wish I grew up in a rural area. We didn’t have a garden so my brother and I had to play in the local park. I live in Liverpool now when I’m not at sea. My brother is a manager on the docks so I stay in his loft when I’m on land. You’re in service so where do you work?” John had never heard of Lord Grantham so he had no clue. He didn’t take notice of many of the gentry’s names.

“Downton Abbey, a large house in Yorkshire. It’s a beautiful estate that’s right next to a little village. I used to hate it there but now it feels like home.” Thomas sighed.

John had always wondered what it was like to work in a large house. There would be similarities between his duties as a steward and the duties of a footman but they were completely different in every other way. “What are the other servants like?”

Thomas laughed, “Our butler is an interesting character. He’s frightening at times but I have to take my hat off to him sometimes. The others are alright. I wasn’t the nicest person so I suppose I can’t rightfully judge anyone else’s characters but I’m trying to better myself. Because of that, I only have one real friend, a footman called Jimmy.”

John nodded. “I’ve only got a couple of real friends on here, Isaac and a girl called Marianne. The rest are either up their own arses or they’re as dull as Sunday rain. A life at sea can be a rough one, even if you’re working on a luxury ship like this one. It’s very competitive. I can imagine that it’s the same working in a big house.”

“Oh isn’t it just.” Thomas snorted. “I’m guilty of competing with others. Like I said, I wasn’t the nicest of blokes until now. When I was a footman, I competed with a lad called William who was too nice for his own good. He’s dead now. He came back from the war ill, married our kitchen maid and died. I feel guilty that I was so terrible to him. Mind you, he wasn’t keen on me either because the lass he married fancied me first.” He did feel genuine sorrow for William’s death.

John sat quietly for a moment before he shrugged. “Eh, who hasn’t been arrogant or nasty with someone at some point in their life? I was a git when I was a teenager. I picked on another smaller kid because I knew something about me was different so I took it out on him. He was probably like your William, too nice to really fight back. I see you served in the war yourself.” He indicated towards Thomas’s bandaged hand. “I’ve got a few nasty scars on my back from when a bomb exploded. I hope you won’t mind.”

Thomas looked at him and replied with a slow head shake. How could Thomas mind? He had no right to mind. He was the coward who held his own hand up to shot so he could leave. He wrongfully became an acting sergeant and it was he who survived, not William or any of the other honest young lads. He then went and tried to join the black market to no success. He continued to plot against people, even sweet Anna. He made a complete fool out of himself with Jimmy.

“What happened to you?” John asked in a soft voice. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t-“

“A German shot my hand.” Thomas stated in monotone. “I’ll be honest with you and if you’re disgusted then you can leave. I won’t be offended.”

John gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean? Is it a blighty?”

Thomas swallowed and nodded as his eyes filled with tears. He quickly turned his head away and hoped that the other man hadn’t noticed this second display of weakness. A blighty and tears, how could he be any more pathetic?

“Hey,” John grabbed Thomas’s arm. “It’s alright. A friend of mine was there for less time than I was and he did the same thing. He sat alone in a trench for nearly an hour before he had the courage to pull the trigger and shoot his own leg. I don’t even consider that to be cowardice. You held up your own hand to the enemy. I think that’s brave. Nobody understands what it’s like out there unless they’ve been.  All those armchair admirals and the top officers sitting cosy in their fancy offices or their snug little bunkers didn’t know fuck all about what really happened out there. The public just put on an act and called those with a blighty or the pacifist cowards. What the hell did they know? Who made them so high and bloody mighty? As if they’ve been as brave as the high standards they harp on about. They’re ungrateful in my eyes. Don’t think that you’re a coward, if that’s why you’re upset. An honest solider who served on the front lines would understand. Anyone else knows fuck all. Its things like this that lead to my decision to stay at sea. I’m away from the towns and the people and the bloody village mobs of supposed do-gooders. I can’t stand the way half of our population acts. I just want to be away from them. Plus, it’s not like they would like me anyway.”

“I was a medic.” Thomas whispered thickly. “I was going to be fired from Downton for stealing wine and plotting against this valet who I thought had nicked my job. I became a medic because I thought it would be easier. I am a coward. The people are right to judge me.”

“You medics were sent to pick up the dead with no means to defend yourselves! We started shooting at the medics, us and the Germans, once the officers complained. There was dignity and respect at first but then, no more.  You had the hardest job out of all of us.” John objected. “I couldn’t have done it. I didn’t want that responsibility. I was happier just running and shooting, looking out for myself.”

Goosebumps broke out over Thomas’s skin as he listened to John’s words. He took a deep breath, slowly and his sight became clearer as his tears faded.

“Thomas, can I kiss you?” John whispered.

Thomas nodded and gasped when he felt a warm hand gently cup his chin. His chin was tilted upwards so that the two men would be looking into each other’s eyes. His heart rate began to increase and felt nauseous again as John lent forward and planted a firm, brief kiss on his lips. A jolt of electricity coursed down his spine when he felt John’s warm hand move from his chin to rest against the small of his back. His heart seemed to skip a beat and he temporarily forgot how to breathe as the other man pulled back to look at him. Thomas lifted his eyes and found John smiling at him.

“Lovely.” He commented, admiring Thomas. “You’re lovely.”

Thomas blushed and averted his eyes in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He’s done this a thousand times before, why was he behaving like a sixteen year old maiden in the throes of her first love? He was a grown man for heaven’s sake, he was almost thirty! He felt ridiculous. His companion seemed to find his plight endearing for he was smiling at him like he was a sweet child. On one hand that was flattering, on the other, patronising. He took another steadying breathe and forced himself to look at John. The man moved even closer to Thomas and circled his arm further around Thomas’s waist. His strong grip caused ripples of goose bumps to spread over Thomas’s skin. Thomas was pulled closer and closer until he was pressed against John, who then guided his body so that he was sitting half on John’s lap. John leant closer and kissed Thomas on his forehead. He then kissed the side of his left eyes, smiling when he felt Thomas’s soft eyelashes flutter. Thomas leant into his body and as he turned his head to look John directly in the face, he was surprised by the other man when he captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. The air in the room seemed to thicken as Thomas moaned softly against John’s mouth. He carefully wrapped his arms around John’s waist as he opened his mouth pliantly to allow John to deepen their kiss. He was manoeuvred again by strong arms to that he was straddling John’s muscular thigs. A hand threaded into his hair as warm kisses were peppered all over him, from his lips to his neck. It was maddening, absolutely intoxicating to be so intimate with another person after being starved of affection for so long. Thomas realised how _cold_ he had been, how lonely. In this moment, John’s kisses and light, teasing nips against skin was like an elixir of life; a resurrection. He had been pale, dead and so very cold ever since that night he had stood in the rain crying, wondering what the fuck he would do with no reference.

“How do you want to do this my lovely?” John whispered against his ear.

Thomas raised his arms so that he could wrap them around John’s neck as more kisses were swept across his jaw. John’s left hand slid down his side before he cupped Thomas’s bottom, pulling the man impossibly closer.

Thomas leant his head back to give John further access before he stammered, “What – what do you mean?”

John giggled against his neck and planted one last kiss on his jaw. He pulled away and smiled at Thomas, who had tipped his head forward to meet his eye. Thomas’s eyes were alight, blazing with passion and he looked so utterly breath taking that John had to give him a quick peck on the tip of his nose. Thomas scrunched his nose and loosened his hold on John’s neck.

“What I mean,” John smiled, “is what would you like to do? What do you like? Do you want us to just touch each other or-“

“Bugger me.” Thomas hurriedly interjected, breathless.

John snorted so hard that he leant backwards, tilting his head back. He composed himself and gave Thomas the same cheeky smile that he had worn earlier when he had slipped into the room. He had always loved it when his partners were direct. He was always easy regarding positions and he would happily do whatever his partner liked. He loved the unique feelings that came from being buggered, as well as being the one doing the buggery. It was all beautiful to him. Right now, he was glad Thomas had said that. He had wanted to be the one to take him because watching this cool, controlled valet blush and quiver in his arms was one of the most tempting, rewarding sights that he had ever seen.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you? Tell me what to do then, love. Let me do unto you whatever it is you request. You’re an enigma, Thomas. Let me unravel you.” John uttered. His breathing was rather heavy now and he could barely even think. All that his mind could process was Thomas and his pale, white skin and his red mouth. He could feel his strong body in his arms and his firm, plump arse. He wanted to _worship_ the valet tonight. There was a mystery surrounding Thomas Barrow but whether he would be the one to solve the puzzle, he had no idea. All he could do was turn the wheels in motion and make sure that this strange, handsome man felt warmth again because the only thing he could assume about him was that he was desperate for something, be it love, life or even some kind of higher form of human intimacy. It may not be his business to find out but he hoped that one day, someone else would.

“Right then,” Thomas whispered. His softened, sweet expression shifted slightly as a darker, more seductive smile crept onto his face. His gaze was stronger as he bore into John, almost as if he was daring the other man to make a move.

“Yeah?” John swallowed, unable to tear his gaze away from Thomas. The power balance was slipping now, he could feel it. He was no longer in control tonight.

Thomas sighed softly as he looked down for a moment in thought. John was hypnotised by Thomas’s mouth as the man bit the corner of his lip. Oh that was on purpose, the clever little minx. Suddenly, grey eyes shot up and stared back at him as Thomas laughed, “at least take your clothes off first.”

 

* * *

 

Jimmy couldn’t sleep. Jimmy was irritable. Jimmy was tired. He was also very bored. He wished that he had a key for the back door so that he could go for a walk outside. He loved night time walks, he always had. His mother had been something of a bohemian and had encouraged impulsive behavior and artistic vision. She encouraged Jimmy to play in the garden at night if he couldn’t sleep, unless it was too cold or past one o’clock. She often joined him and the pair of them would lie in their cool, damp patch of grass and make up stories about the spirits who lived in the stars. She had always told him that there was no more danger in the dark than the day and that the glow of the moon was as beautiful as the rays from the sun.

Jimmy could not see the stars from where he was lying and he couldn’t be arsed to get out of bed so he could look out of his window. There was fuck all to see anyway.

He wondered what Thomas was doing. He would likely be asleep. Third class cabins were notorious for being rather rough and ready so maybe Thomas was also tossing and turning. Deny it or not, Mr Barrow could be a right old snob when it suited him. Jimmy would likely hear his complaints in two weeks when he returned.

 _“My cabin was awful, Jimmy. I was tossing and turning all night!”_ he might say.

 

* * *

 

Mr Barrow was definitely tossing and turning but unlike Jimmy, he was not awake from sleep deprivation. As Jimmy lay still, Thomas was writhing on his bed as he clung onto the headboard behind him for dear life. He was on fire; there was no doubt about it. His skin was too hot and he could barely even think, only feel. He could feel the heat radiating from John’s skin where his leg had been thrown over the other man’s shoulder. He could feel slick sweat on both his and John’s bodies as they slid together in tangent. He could feel the burn in his arse from John’s relentless thrusting and it felt like he was being split in two but by god it was _perfect_. This was the reason why Thomas preferred being fucked by the working classes. The posh toffs had no stamina or backbone and they were too bloody polite. When Thomas was fucked by a man, he wanted to know he was being fucked by a _man_. Philip, the Duke, had been an exception but he was nothing compared to a strong worker. John may have been a steward but hauling heavy suitcases around, running upstairs and a life at sea gave him more power and strength than any horseback rider or polo player. He wasn’t the most endowed man but he was still a damn good size and he knew how to bloody use it.

“Oh fuck!” Thomas gasped, throwing his back.

John swooped down and kissed him hard on the lips as Thomas moaned beneath him. Both of them were dripping with sweat but John refused to ease his pace, regardless of his exhaustion. He needed this just as much as Thomas and it was glorious, _absolutely glorious_. His grip on Thomas’s thigh and waist was so tight, he knew that he would be hurting his partner slightly but there were no complaints. God, he hadn’t had a fuck like this in a long time. He couldn’t slow down, it felt impossible and thankfully, Thomas hadn’t ordered him to.

“John,” Thomas breathed, looking up at him with full blown pupils. “Harder, go even harder.”

John panted through a disbelieving laugh. “I might – _oh fucking hell_ , _when you clench like that_ , _shit_ – I might hurt you, love.”

Thomas gasped again and shut his eyes. “Just bloody do it.”

“We’re already loud, _ah_ , enough as it is. _Bloody hell_!” John cried. He looked down and saw that Thomas was glaring at him. “God – _oh shit_ – really?”

Thomas nodded desperately and let go of the headboard to pull John closer. His right leg was now bent so far backwards it almost pressing against his own shoulder. He was definitely going to feel an ache in the morning. He would probably need to stand for most of the day too.

“Right are then, Mr Barrow.” John laughed. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day, he could tell. “One...two...three... _fuck, I won’t be able to move tomorrow!_ ”

“Ahh!” Thomas cried, throwing his head back. “Imagine...imagine the state that, _ahh_ , I’ll be in.”

John pound into him, absolutely fucking him to the brink as Thomas clutched his broad shoulders for support. The head board was definitely banging against the wall and Thomas prayed to the lord that nobody would be woken from the racket. Thank god he had an end cabin but still, they were completely out of control.

It hurt. John’s deep, hard thrusts were killing him. He was hitting the right spot though; by god was he hell. He was screwing him perfectly, brilliantly. Thomas felt like he was having an outer body experience. This wasn’t real. He wasn’t real, he was a floating being somewhere. He was in the stars. John was something inhuman, he wasn’t real. This was all too good. The cock pounding into him so painfully and rhythmically was purely music and beat, a strange dance. He felt transcendent, like he was beyond all possible human limits. He was somewhere else and he wasn’t real, yet he felt entirely alive. He was alive, he was living. Life was breathing into him. He wasn’t cold. He was warm, impossibly warm. He was whole.

John’s ragged breaths were echoing around the room and he would have laughed if he had the oxygen. If they got caught tomorrow then fuck it, it was worth it. So what if he lost his job? He’d just find another fucking boat. So what if he went to prison? He would pay no fucking rent. The feeling of his cock being enveloped by Thomas’s hot, wet channel was worth any of it. He was being sucked in, suffocated, deprived of all rational thought. _‘Bugger it all, just keep buggering Thomas!_ ’ He cried internally. Then, Thomas’s centre clenched once more and he knew that the other man was close, very close. He too was almost ready but who would be first?

John somehow managed to quicken his pace. He was ready to drop and never move again for a century. He would happily lie down and die after this. He couldn’t stop. Thomas was clawing at his shoulders, biting desperately on his bicep. He kept thrusting, ceaselessly, _hard_. Thomas seemed to pulling him in further, so far down that John wondered if they could somehow fade away from life as they know it, joined today in a spirit-like unity where they no longer consisted of human matter. They would become one somehow and perhaps they would have to because Thomas was so fucking tight, he didn’t know he would be able to pull himself out.

“Now,” Thomas hissed. “Now you can release.”

All John could see was stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Please feel free to give me any feedback, predictions or criticism.  
> All comments are welcome (unless you're rude, that's just no good).


	6. He's Not Jimmy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy misses his dear, handsome friend terribly.
> 
> John, the steward, has an interesting idea when it comes to helping poor Mr Barrow with...a painful problem.
> 
> Lord Grantham almost chokes on his port.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of this chapter is just pure filth.  
> IT IS TRASH.
> 
> I had a VERY hilarious and interesting conversation with my friend last night who, after MANY glasses of wine, described to me how his lovely boyfriend once helped to reduce a little bit of soreness. I was cackling away and I thought 'that's it, I'm putting it in'.
> 
> This is just a short, filler chapter.  
> I'm in the process of writing chapter 7, which WILL be longer, and I should be able to upload this early next week.

“I say Barrow, I’m impressed with our breakfast. I was worried that our meals would not on be on par with our Mrs Patmore’s delicacies but I’m enjoying my eggs immensely.” Lord Grantham chortled, heartily tucking into his meal.

Thomas was currently sat with his Lordship at breakfast. Thomas had not expected to dine with the Lord but he did not complain as it would he meant he would have eaten alone. Thomas agreed with Lord Grantham and had offered his praise for their meal too, although he would never mention to Mrs Patmore that a chef aboard a passenger ship was as capable as she. The dining room had a merry atmosphere that morning and everyone appeared to be smiling. The sun was as jolly as the passengers as it was shining brightly into the sky, streaming sunrays through the windows. Thomas wanted to be happy, he truly did and to an extent he was but his cheer was limited as he found himself very uncomfortable in his seat. The chair was fine, it was lovely in fact. Lord Grantham did not look uncomfortable, nor did the other guests.

_‘This lot didn’t have a cock up their arse last night though, did they?’_ Thomas wondered to himself.

He tried not to shuffle too much in his seat and he managed stop himself from emitting winches by plying himself with orange juice. Nobody seemed to sense anything was wrong with him. He did not receive any curious glances or concerned stares as he discreetly limped to the dining room. Lord Grantham was barely throwing him a second glance for he was too distracted by his food. He continued to natter away about nothing in particular whilst Thomas gave him occasional nods, along with many ‘indeed’ and ‘oh yes, I see’ replies of feigned interest. After giving his Lordship another nod and a smile, Thomas leant forward to butter a slice of toast when a sudden jolt of pain caused him to flinch.

“ _Ahh_ ,” he gasped quietly, hoping that Lord Grantham didn’t notice.

Unfortunately his Lordship had seen his pained expression and was staring at him with wide eyes. What on earth was Thomas supposed to say now?

“Barrow, are you quite alright? You looked as though you just as just sat on a fork.” Lord Grantham remarked.

Thomas prayed to the high heavens and the devil below to not allow a blush to redden his face. If he looked remotely bashful or guilty, Lord Grantham was surely know what he had been up to.

“I’m fine, My Lord.” Thomas assured him with a false smile. “My hand is just seizing up.”

Lord Grantham’s concerned expression remained but he looked calmer. “Do you have any ointment for it or any kind of pain relief?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I’ll apply some after breakfast. It’s nothing to concern yourself with my Lord.”

Thomas made sure that he paid attention to his movements and fought through the rest of breakfast to keep his facial expressions at bay. He was relieved when he was finally able to leave and he walked back to his cabin with the excuse that he was going to attend to his hand. In truth, Thomas was going to lie down and massage his aching backside.

Once he reached his quarters, he threw himself onto his bed and used his ankles to kick his shoes off his feet. He gritted his teeth and manged to pull the rest of his clothes off, remembering to fold them neatly so that his suit would not be crumpled for their arrival in New York. After fumbling with his underwear, Thomas was finally freed but he felt as though he had been hit by train. His whole body seemed to ache and he barely had the energy to raise his arms but his sore bottom was the most painful area. He wanted to lie down in an ice bath and set himself on fire all at once. Deciding that he needed a rest before he started walking around again, Thomas set his alarm clock and turned onto his side, not wanting any pressure on his behind.

“It was worth it,” he whispered to himself before he closed his eyes.

A good half an hour passed and he almost fell into a deep sleep but two sharp knocks on his door startled him. Thomas’s mind was still registering the fact that a person was trying to gain entry into his room whilst he was lying on his bed in the nip but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Hello?” Thomas called, staring in horror at the door handle. He was grateful that he had locked the door.

“Thomas, it’s me.” John replied. “I’m on a quick break.”

_‘Shit,’_ Thomas thought to himself. _‘At least it wasn’t his Lordship!’_

He jumped up from his bed, causing him to cripple over in pain for a moment when his arse felt as though it was on fire, before he pulled his trousers and undershirt on.

“Are you alright?” John called again, knocking on the door once more.

Thomas threw himself across the room and pulled open the door to find John smiling at him. He quickly ushered the steward into his room and shut the door.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. “Anyone could have seen you waltzing in here!”

John shrugged sheepishly. “There’s no one else around, I checked. Nobody saw me come down here, Thomas so calm down.”

Thomas looked around in exasperation and mimicked John’s shrug. “Well you just never know, do you? The wrong person could be hanging about and you coming in here –“

“Thomas,” John interrupted.

Thomas ignored his interjection, “and the _noise_ we made last night, John! Everyone on this corridor must have heard us going for it! We can’t –“

He was silenced by John grabbing his shoulders and kissing him. Thomas blinked and pulled back, frowning at John’s grin.

“Calm down,” John soothed, tapping Thomas’s nose. “I can imagine why you’re so jumpy and yes, you are right but honestly, I know that nobody was in the corridor and I wasn’t followed. As for the noise, nobody has said anything to you, have they? No? There you go. Just calm down or you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

Thomas huffed and sat down on his bed, causing him to wince.

John bit his lip and ran his hands through Thomas’s hair. “You poor thing, you must be aching. Are you alright, love?”

Thomas rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling slightly. “Yes, I’m fine. I am sore but it’s fine. I’m sorry for panicking just before, I suppose I do need to calm down sometimes. I normally am calm, it’s just –“

John shushed him and took a seat next to Thomas on the bed. They mirrored their seating arrangement from the previous night. Thomas sighed and took a deep breath as John wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I understand. I know the risks as well, trust me. I wasn’t followed down here so you’re safe. I told you I would come and see you so here I am.” He smiled softly. “You’re all dishevelled. Were you having a rest?”

Thomas nodded and gave him a small smile. “Yes, I have lying down.”

John looked around took notice of Thomas’s clothes that were lying in a heap on the floor. A pair of socks lay neatly at the end of the bed which suggested to John that Thomas’s clothes had previously been in a neat pile. Now they were all over the place and a pair of underwear was lying on top of his white shirt. He faced Thomas again and gave him a knowing look.

“Mr Barrow, were you having a kip in the nude?” He smirked smugly. What a lovely thought.

Thomas shrugged and raised his eyebrows at him.  “Possibly.”

John laughed and stroked a finger down his cheek. “If you’re uncomfortable, you can take them all off again, I won’t mind.”

“You cheeky sod!” Thomas declared, laughing.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all anyway.” John smiled, watching Thomas stand up. “Are you really sore?”

Thomas nodded. He re-joined John on the bed, only this time he lay on his front with his head next to John’s knee. He felt fingers thread into his hair and he smiled, enjoying the petting. He had always found that his resolve weakened when someone played with his hair.

_“You’re like a cat.”_ Philip, the Duke of Crowborough, had once laughed when Thomas practically purred one night.

John snorted and gave Thomas a little tickle behind his right ear as the other man shuffled and giggled softly. John checked his watch and was happy to see that he had another twenty minutes before he had to return to his work. He wished he could help Thomas feel better but sadly, a sore arse could only fix itself if you didn’t want a suspicious doctor on your case.

“How long can you stay? Actually, how long do we have until we reach America?” Thomas asked, but John’s thoughts were a mile away.

John remembered one night from many years ago when he had been very sore after a good buggering. His partner at the time, a docker from Liverpool, had done something very…unusual and strange…but was definitely wonderful.

“John?” Thomas asked, tapping his leg. “Can you hear me? You said I was dreamy! Pfft.”

John blinked and looked down at Thomas. “I’ve got twenty minutes and erm, I think we have another three hours or so before we reach land.”

Thomas made a ‘hmm’ sound and nudged John’s hand with his head to encourage more petting, which worked. John enjoyed running his fingers through Thomas’s hair, although he preferred it last night when it was not covered in pomade.

“You demand a lot of attention, don’t you?” He mused, still smiling affectionately at Thomas.

The other man grinned cheekily and closed his eyes, nodding contently.

“If you were an animal, you’d be a cat for sure.” John joked.

Thomas’s grin widened and he looked up at the steward. “So I’ve been told.”

John rolled his eyes and gave his hair one final stroke before he stood from the bed and knelt in front of Thomas, who gave him a confused look.

“Thomas,” John started, “I want to try something with you. Someone did this to me a long time ago and I _loved_ it. It was unusual but I thought that it helped my poor bottom. Do you want me to try it and if you like it, I’ll carry on? I’ve never done it to another person.”

Thomas looked even more confused. “What are you talking about?”

John took a steadying breath and licked his lips. “Will you take your clothes off?”

Thomas still looked confused but his eyes lit up with weary excitement. “You take them off for me.”

John smiled, “fair enough.”

He stripped Thomas of his trousers and undershirt, grinning when he was reminded that Thomas had not been wearing his underwear and for good measure, John even folded all of Thomas’s clothes back into a tidy pile. Thomas was lying happily on his front once again and watched John carefully. He had no idea what he was going to do.

“Right,” Johns smiled. “You stay exactly where you are. I’m going to move behind you. I can only do this for ten minutes or so because I’ll have to dash off.”

Thomas shrugged and pouted. “Well get on with it then, Mr Mysterious. What are you going to do?”

John just smiled and walked around the bed. He climbed onto it so that he straddled Thomas’s legs. Thomas turned his head to watch him, still clearly confused. John leant forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek, then his shoulder which made Thomas very happy. John sat back again and took a moment to admire Thomas’s muscular, pale back and his lovely firm arse. Unable to help himself, he ran his fingers down Thomas’s spine, down over his arse and the top of his milky thighs. Thomas had a lovely body, he really did. His skin was so pale that it was almost translucent in places and although he was dark, his body wasn’t overly hairy. Actually, he was only covered with light dustings of black hair on his legs, arms and the little trail that led the darker patch of curls between his legs. His arse was hairless, only covered with almost invisible light hairs, which pleased John. Smooth skin in this area was going to make his task easier.

“Your skin is ridiculously soft, do you know that?” John asked, leaning forward again to whisper into his neck. He gave Thomas a gentle kiss behind his ear.

Thomas sighed and chuckled. “Yours is nice too.”

John’s hands returned to the other man’s plump arse so he could gently knead Thomas’s rump. He wished he had longer than fifteen minutes.

“Right my darling, I need you to spread your legs for me.” He continued. He gave Thomas’s left arse cheek a light slap.

Thomas jolted slightly at the impact and he followed his orders. John manoeuvred himself so he was between Thomas’s legs while he placed his hands onto Thomas’s waist so he could guide the valet to his knees. Thomas rested on his elbows and blushed at the fact that his arse was essentially waving in the air. He felt John’s breathe against his skin behind him and he gasped when the steward pressed a light kiss to his bottom. Suddenly everything clicked.

“I see,” Thomas smiled. “Now I know what you’re up to. Keep going!”

John grinned behind Thomas and kneaded the valet’s arse again, parting the globes of cheeks. He could see Thomas’s red, sore centre and he tutted to himself softly, ‘ _poor dear’_.  He leant forward and gave the small, puckered hole a gentle kiss.

“I need to lubricate you a bit. Should I use your oil or can I spit? I know some people might find spitting off putting.” John asked.

Thomas scoffed. “People are so particular! Its fine to have a man release in you but a bit of spit is disgusting? Do what you want, I’m not bothered.”

John laughed, shaking his head. He leant closer towards Thomas’s body before he spat directly onto his hole. He repeated this a couple of times and although he did receive a thrill from it, he had to privately admit that it was a vulgar act.

“God, I’ve only done this once.” Thomas whispered excitedly. “It was a Duke and I _loved_ it but he only did it once. I never thought to ask him to – _oh fuck!_ ” Thomas received a harder slap this time.

“You are a naughty little thing underneath that veneer - absolutely filthy!” John breathed against Thomas’s skin.

The tip of John’s tongue gently began to lap against Thomas’s hole, effectively silencing the valet. The steward lapped at him again, and again, each time licking him harder, all the while making sure that he didn’t put too much pressure on Thomas’s painful arse. He continued to kiss, nip and lap at Thomas, enjoying his wriggles and his clenching hole.

“You started it – _ahh, don’t stop!_ ” Thomas panted.

John gave his hole another kiss and spread his arse cheeks move, allowing him further entrance. He lapped again, almost sucking at his skin while Thomas writhed.

“Thomas love,” he breathed, “you need to keep still.”

Thomas swallowed and nodded, “sorry.”

John continued his work, only this time he carefully began to push the tip of his tongue against Thomas’s centre. He continued to alternate between light kisses, licks, spits and thrusts as he pleasured the valet, who was making a valiant effort to remain as still as possible. John could feel himself hardening by the minute. He continued to lick at Thomas whilst he raised his right arm to check his watch. He had five minutes left – _shit_. He was hard, Thomas was lost to the world and he should have been on his way up the stairs by now. Bugger!

_‘Arthur will cover for me. Besides, Mr Marshall is probably still chatting up Geraldine in the kitchen.’_ John reasoned with himself. _‘I’ve been late back before and not been caught.’_

He decided to be rebellious and continue his current ministrations. He needed to be more forceful now so he gently dipped his tongue into further into Thomas, pushing deeper as Thomas moaned. He continued to push and push until his nose was pressed against Thomas arse. He felt like the filthiest whore on earth but he loved every second, absolutely loved it. He wondered if all homosexuals would go for this.

“We are fucking disgusting!” Thomas laughed as he tilted his arse higher, encouraging John.

John was practically slobbering all over the other man’s backside but it was wonderful. This was the most filthy, erotic thing he had ever done and he was completely overwhelmed.  He somehow managed to push his tongue even further into the valet’s arse, so far in that half his tongue was probing Thomas.

“John – _John!_ ” Thomas gasped. “You’ll need to go!”

John had to pull his mouth away from Thomas in agreement. Oh yes, he definitely needed to go.

“You’re right. I don’t want to but I must. God, look at you!”

Thomas was slumped against the bed, his legs spread and his arse glistening with John’s spit. He had to immediately stand up or else he would have thought ‘fuck it’ and continued rimming Thomas. He quickly pulled on his clothes as Thomas watched him.

“You definitely helped.” Thomas smiled. The valet pulled himself up so he could swing his tired legs over the bed so he could sit on the edge. “You can’t be going up there with _that!_ ” He indicated towards John’s very obvious erection. “Come here!”

John looked down and then back at Thomas. “I’ll quickly nip into the staff toilet, it’s alright. I need to see you before you leave though. Meet me here an hour before we reach port. I can easily sneak off for a few minutes.”

Thomas smirked. “Lord Grantham told me I had the day to myself again. Look at me! Do you think I’m going anywhere? I’ll still be here. Now come here so I can get you off.”

John stepped towards him, defeated. Thomas unzipped his trousers and reached into his underwear to realise his weeping prick. No time could be wasted so Thomas immediately swallowed him, taking as much of John as he could into his mouth. He fondled his balls to help speed along the process whilst John wilted against him, gripping Thomas’s hair and shoulder. Thomas hollowed his cheeks and sucked as hard as he could as he lightly tugged at John’s sack. John was rock hard so thankfully it only took a couple of minutes before he released into Thomas’s mouth, who swallowed all of his seed expertly. Thomas was bloody _skilled_ , that was for sure.

“You would have made a damned good prostitute.” John teased, out of breathe as he ruffled Thomas’s hair.

Thomas grinned up at him before he wiped his mouth on his arm. “So I’ve been told.”

John gave his nose another light tap (he really had a thing for Thomas’s nose) and straightened himself up. He knew he would look like a right bloody mess but hopefully he could pull himself together before he returned to work.

“See you later.” He smiled, quickly giving Thomas a kiss.

“I hope you don’t get in trouble!” Thomas called as John dashed out of the door. ‘ _I hope nobody was in the corridor just now._ ’

Once his door shut, Thomas flopped back onto his bed and stared at his ceiling. He was sweaty, naked, had spit in his arse and cum on his lips.

“I am having a great trip.” He smirked.

 

* * *

 

 Back at Downton, Jimmy was walking along an upstairs corridor when Mr Carson approached him looking most displeased.

“James,” he addressed him. “We have run out of black thread and Mrs Patmore needs a small loaf of bread. You aren’t busy at the moment, are you?”

Jimmy shook his head. “No Mr Carson, I was on my way back to the servant’s hall. Would you like me to walk into the village for you?”

Mr Carson nodded, “yes, this is an emergency! I want to you back promptly and I will be keeping an eye out should you dally. Go now and see Mrs Hughes, she will give you some money.”

Jimmy highly doubted that a low supply of black thread and lack of a small loaf of bread was an _emergency_ but who was he to judge? “Yes, Mr Carson.”

The butler gave him a final nod and stepped aside so the footman could pass. “Off you go.”

Jimmy hurried downstairs and knocked on Mrs Hughes door. She opened it immediately and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Here you are, James. I’m sorry if Mr Carson is having a bit of a flap. I think Mr Barrow’s absence has ruffled his feathers. You know how he can be. Don’t take too long now.”

Shopping for supplies was not Jimmy’s favourite past time but he was happy that he would be able to get some fresh air for a while. As he headed towards the village, Jimmy found that he wasn’t able to walk at a brisk pace or else he would have been sweating. He tipped his hat when he passed one of the local farmers who often joined Jimmy for a pint in the pub.

“Alright there, Jimmy?” the farmer had called.

All of the shops were very quiet but he could hear distance chatter so perhaps most people who were not at work were spending their day in the park. He was able to buy a loaf and the black thread quickly so he supposed that he had time to stroll back up to the abbey. When he left the tailors, Jimmy spotted a young woman standing across the road, looking around as though she was lost. He wondered if she was visiting the village because she didn’t look familiar.

“Can I help you with anything?” Jimmy asked, approaching the woman.

She turned and blinked at him before she smiled. She was a little shorter than Jimmy and she was very pretty, with large brown eyes and copper coloured hair. “Oh yes, I’m fine. I was just admiring the village.” She explained.

Jimmy returned her smile. “I wondered if you were lost. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you visiting?”

The girl nodded. “Yes, I’m staying for three days with a friend. She’s an artist and she wants to paint different areas of the country.”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. I suppose it is pretty round here. I’m Jimmy by the way, Jimmy Kent.” He extended his hand to her.

“I’m Bethany Wilkinson. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jimmy.”

Jimmy smiled. “I work up at Downton Abbey as a footman. I need to head back. I would love to stay and chat but the butler would not be pleased.”

Bethany nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Oh dear, I can imagine! Please don’t let me keep you. It was lovely to meet you and thank you for offering to help me. You’re a gentleman.”

_‘Tell that to Ivy,’_ Jimmy thought to himself. “Good day, Miss Wilkinson.”

Jimmy smirked to himself all the way back to the abbey. He wondered if Alfred would ever pull a girl like that. He couldn’t even hold Ivy’s attention unless he was fawning all over her like a pathetic, clingy baby. Thomas was more subtle than Alfred and that was saying something!

_‘He barely even touches me now unless he’s hitting me or joking around.’_ He mused to himself. ‘ _He used to always touch me. I miss it now.’_

He suddenly stopped in his tracks outside of the servant’s door. What the hell had he just thought?

A sudden rap against a window startled Jimmy. He looked to his left to see Mr Carson glaring at him through the glass, indicating with his head for Jimmy to get inside.

 

* * *

 

 Outside of Thomas’s window the sky had unfortunately clouded over and it was a depressing sight. He hoped that the weather would be dry once they reached land because he despised the rain. He also hoped that Lord Grantham wasn’t working himself up too much over his brother-in-law’s blunder. Thomas had no idea what was going on, only that something had occurred and Lord Grantham was summoned to support Lady Grantham’s brother. As long as Thomas would still have a job, he couldn’t really care less about the family’s business affairs. He sat down on his bed again and huffed to himself. Where on earth was John? He still had not come to see him. He would need to attend to Lord Grantham soon and if John didn’t hurry up he won’t be getting any goodbye kisses, not unless Thomas wants to be thrown overboard by Lord Grantham. Well, he wouldn’t be thrown overboard but his position as under butler would be!

Suddenly his door flew open and John stumbled in. “Hello!” He puffed. He then turned and called to someone in the corridor, “no it’s fine, I know this gentleman. No, it’s not a woman’s room! No he’s not insulted! Carl, go back upstairs please, thank you.”

He shut the door and flopped himself down onto Thomas’s bed. “Colleagues, eh?”

Thomas frowned at him. This was why he disapproved of John’s devil may care attitude - anyone could have been in the corridor when he flung himself into his room! After all the noise they had made last night and John’s constant presence in this area it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that something funny was going on.

John looked at Thomas and read his expression. “Oh come on now, don’t be like that! Carl was the only one out there, I _promise_. He’s an idiot. He won’t report my behaviour because he’s too nervous to speak to our senior staff.” He reached over to tap Thomas on his nose.

Thomas flinched and pulled away. “Why are you always tapping me on the nose?”

John laughed, “Because your nose is adorable and so are you.”

Thomas scoffed, “oh shush, you soppy git.”

John sat up and produced a notebook from his jacket. He pulled a pen from his other pocked and then flicked through his book to find a clean page. Thomas caught glimpses of various intricate drawings and sketches before his friend held his book out to him.

“Here, write your address in it. I want to write to you...that is...if you want me to write to you.” John’s arm wavered slightly but Thomas stopped him from closing his book.

“No, I do want you to write. I never get any letters. Besides, it would be nice to have another friend.” Thomas smiled brightly as he was passed the pen.

“I would like us to be more than friends, you know.” John said quietly.

Thomas blushed as he wrote his address. “I would like that too but...”

John sighed. “It would practically be impossible, sadly. I’m never on land for very long and when I am, I need to save a lot of my money so I can’t travel very much. Working at sea doesn’t pay too well but like I said yesterday, I love the lifestyle. I like seeing new places. I know you servants don’t get many days off so...it would be too hard.”

Thomas nodded and smiled sadly at John. “I know. I...I also have to confess that I don’t think I would be ready for a proper relationship. I’m not going to get into it but I had a serious incident – never mind, it’s nothing you need to know about.”

John put his hand on Thomas’s arm. “You could tell me if you’d like.”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t have time anyway; I need to tend to Lord Grantham. You need to get back to work! How many breaks have you had today?”

The steward laughed and lent back on his arms. “Only what I deserve. Pass me my book so I can give you my Liverpool address.”

He quickly scribbled his details and ripped the page from the book to hand to Thomas. The valet smiled at him and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

John reached over to Thomas and cupped his chin. Thomas looked up and smiled at John before the steward kissed him. It would have been lovely if he could have lingered but he was conscious of the time. He pulled away from John and gave his nose a tap.

“There, now I got you this time.” He said cheekily.

John smiled and stood up. “Well...if I don’t see you leave then...this is goodbye…for now.”

Thomas nodded. This moment suddenly became very _real_.

“I’m not too fond of goodbyes,” John said, stepping away from Thomas. “Good luck in America and I hope you have a safe journey back to England. I’m not going to be working here for your return journey I’m afraid.”

Thomas swallowed. “Thank you. I hope you keep well and that you carry on taking all the breaks you deserve.”

John laughed, “That I will definitely do! Goodbye for now, Mr Barrow. It’s been a pleasure.”

Thomas smirked, “a pleasure indeed.”

“You’re pretty.” John smiled.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl!” Thomas pretended to frown.

It was John’s turn to smirk. “You’re handsome.”

Thomas tilted his head up and nodded. “That’s better.”

John lingered for a moment longer so Thomas took the opportunity to give him one final quick kiss. He tried to savour the softness of John’s lips before he pulled away. The steward gave him one final smiled, waved and walked out of the room.

Now that he was alone, he needed to pack away his belongings before went to attend to Lord Grantham and also pack his cases. Thomas did not enjoy packing suitcases. As he quickly folded up his suit from yesterday and all of his sanitary items, he tried not to dwell on how he felt. He didn’t feel particularly sad that he and John’s brief fling was over, nor did he feel any sort of heart ache. He felt lonely all of a sudden, he knew that much, but there was something else as well. He had liked John, truly liked him and if they had been able to have more time together, Thomas was sure that he could have even come to love him, at least in some way. He was handsome, funny; although he was a little too careless, but he had to confess that he was excellent in bed. There was just something not quite right.

“ _He’s not Jimmy_ ,” whispered a voice in his head.

He could have kicked himself! He could have honestly kicked himself. He stormed along the corridors as he made his way to Lord Grantham’s room, earning him a few disapproved looks from the people he passed. He didn’t care because he was annoyed at himself.

_‘For fucks sake, when will you get over him?’_  He scolded himself. ‘ _What if you really do meet someone who has potential? Are you going jeopardise all of your potential partners because of him? He likes women for god’s sake!_ ’

Without thinking, Thomas flung Lord Grantham’s door open and as soon as the door handle flew from his grasp, Thomas braced himself for a telling off or a glare. Thankfully Lord Grantham had his back turned and was too busy muttering to himself. Thomas’s sharp reflexes managed to grab the door before it thudded off the wall.

“Good evening, My Lord.” Thomas announced, stepping into the room.

“Ah Barrow, did you knock? I didn’t hear you.” Lord Grantham said, too busy looking at the paper he had in his hands.

“Yes, My Lord.” Thomas lied. “Would you like me to pack for you?”

Lord Grantham looked up and gave Thomas a small nod. “Yes thank you, Barrow. I’ve already made a start. Honestly this is all ridiculous. I still don’t see why I am needed.”

He continued to mutter to himself and sigh as Thomas carried out his duties. It didn’t take Thomas as long as he expected to pack for the Lord so once the two men were ready, they headed to the bar together as the stewards would bring the two men their cases later.

Lord Grantham ordered himself a large glass of port whilst Thomas sipped a glass of water.

“Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?” Lord Grantham asked, looking at Barrow’s water.

Thomas shook his head. “No thank you, My Lord. I’m quite thirsty so water will do me fine.”

Lord Grantham rattled on about his frustration with his brother-in-law before he eventually stopped himself, too frustrated to continue. Thomas had tried to sympathise and appear interested but he really wasn’t.

“I suppose I should just accept that I’m going to become involved. I’ll put it out of my mind for now. Have you enjoyed your stay on the ship? I hope you haven’t felt seasick.”

Thomas smiled gently. “I’ve had a pleasant stay, my Lord. Thank you again for offering me this opportunity.”

Lord Grantham flapped his hand. “There’s no need to thank me, Barrow. Lady Mary told me that Bates should remain with Anna. Do you know why? Has anything happened?”

Thomas blinked. “Not that I’m aware of, My Lord.” His brow furrowed as he considered what Lady Mary’s comment could have meant.

His Lordship sighed. “I hope it’s good, whatever it is. What have you done to amuse yourself, Barrow? Did you see the poker room?”

Robert suddenly remembered another comment from Lady Mary, “ _all those handsome stewards strutting down the boat deck_.”

Thomas shook his head. “I mostly wandered around on the deck. I like being outside in the fresh air and the view was nice.”

Lord Grantham almost choked on his drink.

 

* * *

 

 One week later, Jimmy sat staring at the ceiling of the servant’s hall as he waited for his lunch to be made by Daisy. This entire week had seemed to drag along at a pace that would rival a snail’s on a hot day. The weather had turned miserable which did not help Jimmy’s mood in the slightest. He was missing Thomas terribly. Everyone else at the abbey was boring him to tears. His favourite time of the day had always been late in the evenings when the servant’s had time to themselves to talk, play cards and often, Jimmy had played the piano. He hadn’t played the piano for a long time, not since the disaster night. He glanced over at the instrument, suddenly feeling an urge to play something. He continued to stare at it until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped and turned to see Mrs Patmore frowning at him, holding a plate that carried a sandwich.

“There’s no time for that. You eat this and you get back upstairs!” She ordered him sternly as she shoved the sandwich in front of him. “Daisy was calling your name and you ignored her. Where do you think you are, dining with the royals in Buckingham Palace? Honestly!”

She continued to mutter away to herself as she hurried back to the kitchen, leaving Jimmy sitting shocked in her wake. How was he supposed to hear Daisy from in here? He huffed and grudging pulled his dinner from the plate, inspecting it. It was a simple chicken sandwich, nothing flash.

“Well you can’t beat a classic.” Jimmy mumbled, shrugging before he took a bite.

He couldn’t take too long but he wished for the life of him that he could go back to bed. It would be nice if he could go into hibernation or something until Thomas returned. Thomas hadn’t even sent him a letter! He promised that he would. A week had passed and he had received nothing. Jimmy would have sent him a letter!

_‘Maybe he met some American and he’s too busy with him._ ’ Jimmy thought to himself sadly.

He supposed that perhaps Thomas could find a better friend. Jimmy had been terrible to him and even though the two men were growing closer, there still seemed to be a tension between them. Both men were afraid to be _too close_ for different reasons. Jimmy didn’t want anyone to think that there was something between him and Thomas, except for friendship of course. Thomas didn’t want Jimmy to worry about any unwanted attention or for anyone to bother him with ridiculous rumours.

_‘I wonder if Thomas has been sharing a bed with an American.’_ He wondered as he took another large bite from his sandwich. ‘ _Oh no…what if Thomas meets a rich bloke and he wants to hire Thomas so he could be his valet? Thomas went with that Duke! What if he does prefer richer men he decides to stay with the rich American fella and not come back to Downton…_ ’

“James!” Mr Carson called out, standing in the doorway. “Eat that and help Alfred to tidy the library. The Dowager is going to pay Lady Grantham a visit.”

When the butler strode away, Jimmy groaned and let his head fall onto the table with a loud thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go.  
> John's a dream. He's an absolute dream.
> 
> Thomas will be returning in the next chapter....  
> He had the audacity not to even write ONCE to Jimmy and he'll waltz back to Downton to tell his friend all about the lovely steward.  
> Will Mr Kent be impressed?
> 
> We'll find out.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please feel free to leave any comments on THIS ABSOLUTE TRASH CHAPTER.


	7. The Sun and the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy is still plodding along as usual without his friend and Thomas finds that his past cathces up with him.  
> Mr Barrow is returning from America but soon he will find that his relationship with Jimmy will change dramatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer than I expected to write so it's been over a good week since I've updated this story.  
> In all honesty, I think I will take 7 - 10 days to write an update as I'm very busy at the moment. Please bear with me if there are any delays.

A cold, grey mist had fallen upon most of England during the second week of Lord Grantham’s absence. Lady Mary was disappointed that she had to cancel a trip with Lord Gillingham and her frustration affected everyone else in the household, including the staff. Jimmy and Alfred were constantly running up and down to bring the family tea, causing immense stress for Mrs Patmore who complained about the constant stream of bodies trekking through her kitchen. Anna was behaving oddly and Mr Bates was constantly fretting, although he tried valiantly not to harass his wife with questions. Mr Carson remained on top form and kept a watchful eye over the rest of the staff, Jimmy in particular. He refused to see standards slip due to the bleak weather.

Jimmy took his third tray of tea into the library, along with Mr Carson, for Lady Grantham, Lady Edith and Mr Branson. He carefully served the tea and received a smile from the ladies and Tom, whilst Mr Carson watched with an approving frown. How Mr Carson managed to frown approvingly was a miracle but it was the Mr Carson way. It irked Jimmy however, that Mr Carson still believed that he needed to oversee Jimmy when he attended to the family. Alfred was not followed when he served the family earlier.

 _‘Favouritism’_ Jimmy thought bitterly.

The family helped themselves to their sugar and honey as he stepped away from their little table.

“Why is Mary not joining us?” Edith asked her mother as she raised her cup.

Cora frowned and gently shook her head. “She’s reading quietly in her room. Apparently she feels rather suffocated today and has asked for some solitude for a few hours. Honestly, I fear she’s still grieving for dear Matthew and no wonder.”

Tom sighed softly and gave the two women a small, sad smile. “I know how she feels. I still miss Sybil ev’ry day. I always will.”

“As we all will. We know grief too well, don’t we?” Edith sighed.

Cora nodded and but leant forward slightly, opening her mouth to start a sentence. She closed it immediately, unable to find the right words to say. After a moment’s pause, she smiled at Tom and Edith and placed her teacup and saucer down.

“I think we all need to be happy for our loved ones,” she suggested. “We must try to carry on with the time we have left for Sybil, Matthew and your Mr Gregson, Edith, wherever the dear man may be.”

The family nodded solemnly as Jimmy tried to keep his eyes focused on the wall. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he thought of his late parents and to a strange extent, Thomas. He wanted to do better for his mother and father in case they were watching over him. After listening to Thomas and Ivy’s scolding, he realised that he was ready to take the first steps. He would need to apologise to Ivy. He needed to show his parents that he can live a good life for them. He needed to show Thomas that he could learn from his friend’s past mistakes.

Once the three family members finished their tea, Jimmy cleared the side tables and headed for the kitchen. He ignored Ivy but he gave Daisy a quick smile before he turned to leave.

_‘I’ll apologise to Ivy soon, I just need more time.’_

“James,” Called Mrs Hughes. “A letter arrived for you. It looks like Mr Barrow’s handwriting. You can read it later.”

A hall boy passed by and stopped to beam at Jimmy. “I wonder if he’s enjoying America! I’ve always wanted to go. My uncle –“

Jimmy was about to give a reply to the boy but the housekeeper beat him to it. “You can wonder later when you’ve finished your work, young man.”

The young boy’s smile fell immediately. He nodded silently to the housekeeper and turned to scurry past, mumbling away to himself moodily as Jimmy watched him, amused. He had hated being a hall boy, especially during moments like this when you could barely stop to speak to another member of staff without being chastised. He was glad that he was a footman now.

Behind Jimmy, Mr Carson descended the stairs and was about to walk past Jimmy before the footman stopped him.

“Mr Carson?” Jimmy asked, stepping closer to the butler.

The older man glared down at him. “Yes James?”

“Could I take my break now? I haven’t got anything to do now until lunch.”

Carson was clearly ruffled by the footman’s question but since he could think of no other tasks for the footman to complete at present, he had to allow Jimmy his break.

“Thank you, Mr Carson.” Jimmy smiled, flashing the butler a charming grin.

He almost skidded as he rushed to the small pile of post that lay waiting at the end of the servant’s dining table. A small white envelope was at the top of the pile, clearly stating ‘James Kent’ in neat penmanship; Thomas’s handwriting. He grabbed the letter and threw himself into the nearest chair as Anna watched him fondly. Jimmy had not noticed that the maid was in the room. She was sitting mending one of Lady Edith’s dresses with the black thread that Jimmy had recently purchased.

“Is that a letter from Mr Barrow?” She smiled.

Jimmy leant back in his chair to appear more casual. “I think so.”

Anna just smiled more and turned her attention back to her sewing. “You two have become close again. It’s nice. Mr Barrow has had a difficult time of late.”

Jimmy shrugged and tried to keep his hands from shaking with excitement as he opened his letter. The envelope was quite thick so it must have cost a decent bit of money for the paper. “Yeah, we’re mates now.”

“I’m glad to hear it, especially after what he did for you at the fair.” She said quietly, continuing to sew the hem of Lady Edith’s dress.

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush and he resisted the urge to swallow. Thomas was haunted by the memory of _that night_. Jimmy was haunted by the memory of _that day_ ; the fair. Thomas Barrow, _the queer, the pansy_ , was the man who jumped between the gang of thugs to save Jimmy who had been foolish and drunk. Memories of him snidely asking Thomas if the tug of war game would be ‘too rough’ brings a horrible sinking feeling to his gut as flashes of Thomas being knocked about by the men causes vomit to rise in his throat. He was a bloody coward that day! He had left his friend to be beaten. He had accused Mr Barrow of not being a real man and look what he had done; he abandoned his mate. He had ran from the fight and saved his arse. What man does that?

Anna’s eyes lifted and she saw Jimmy looking faintly ill. This was clearly a sore spot for him and although it was something she had wanted to mention to the footman since she had seen Mr Barrow’s cut up face, she also felt a little sorry for the young man before her. She didn’t know what else to say so she returned to her work.

“I was a coward that day, Anna. I left my mate and I ran from a fight.” Jimmy mumbled slowly. He fidgeted with the envelope in his hands.

Anna looked back at Jimmy and carefully laid Edith’s dress on the table. “Jimmy, I’m sure Thomas forgave you straight away. No, I know he did. We all know he forgave you. He’s a funny man is Mr Barrow, although he we all know why.”

Jimmy stared at Anna. “I know, I just - what do you mean by _funny?”_

Anna shrugged slightly and gave him a sad smile. “I never quite know how I feel about Mr Barrow. I can’t quite forgive him for his behaviour towards Mr Bates –“

“Well nobody can blame you for that.” Jimmy said softly.

The maid gave him a stiff smile and shrugged again with her left shoulder. “He’s been...unkind at times. He was terrible to Mr Bates, he bullied William constantly, he led Daisy on, he’s snapped at me, he’s lied and he’s stolen. He will have done more and none of us will know about it. Yet, I’ve seen other sides to him that mean I can’t quite bring myself to hate him. I’ve seen him cry for Lady Sybil. He’s made me laugh. He once gave me his coat when we walked back from the village in the snow. He danced with Daisy and he’s saved the children from that awful nanny. He found Lord Grantham’s dog. He survived the war. He helped to organised the hospital at Downton very well when he was acting sergeant and he’s a good under butler. I just…I can’t trust him or particularly _like_ him but I also can’t hate him. I’ve worked with him for a long time….”

Jimmy waited patiently for Anna to continue but the maid fell into silence. She looked slightly upset, but also confused.

“I don’t want him to be unhappy.” Anna said finally. “I’m glad he has you for a friend again. A part of me sometimes does wish that he had gone to work somewhere else – more for Mr Bates’s sake than my own – but at the same time, I can’t imagine Downton without him. I’m glad Miss O’Brien left. I had no feelings towards her. She was a truly cold woman, even when she was caring. She could really go to extremes. I was told her awful plan from Mr Bates regarding _you_ …and Thomas. She didn’t know when to stop. Thomas does to an extent. I suppose that’s where some of the…not quit _fondness_ ….perhaps concern would be a better word for it. I care somewhat about Mr Barrow. He has a heart, I just think – well never mind, he has you.”

Jimmy swallowed after Anna finished speaking. He didn’t know how to continue to conversation so he remained silent. The atmosphere in the room between him and the maid felt as grey as the sky outside. He watched Anna return to her sewing before he remembered Thomas’s letter. He quickly pulled it out and began to read its contents.

_Mr Kent,_

_I had expected to write to you sooner but I forgot to take writing paper with me and I couldn’t be arsed to waste my money on buying more. I’ve nicked a few pieces from Lord Grantham’s guestroom so keep quiet. He had a lot of paper so he won’t be missing any of it. If Mr Carson found out that I pinched his precious Lordship’s paper, I honestly think that he would find a way to cross the sea so he could box my ears in!_

_New York is huge, Jimmy! I think the city would suit you well. Lord Grantham barely needs me as he’s so busy with the whole whatever business – I haven’t got a clue and frankly, I don’t care. I’ve been to the big park (its name has slipped my mind but it’s a very obvious name), I’ve been to a few clubs and I’ve met some interesting people – shush. The music scenes here are incredible, you won’t even imagine! A very kind gentleman who is a lawyer, and has a nice car, told me that he liked how pale the English are took me to an underground club where all of the musicians were black. This tall guy on the saxophone was brilliant and the female singer had a very good voice. Another man also sang in a strange language that was likely to have been African. You would really enjoy yourself here, Jimmy._

_New York is a very busy city, even busier than London. London feels stuffy in comparison, although the police officers here and its people seem rather straight laced on the streets. It’s the secret places and the clubs that show you real New York life. It is wild, Jimmy. As I’ve said, you would love it here._

_I even met a really pretty blonde called Molly who thinks you “sound just swell!” I told her that if she ever comes to visit England, you would happily show her around._

_I hope Carson hasn’t been too harsh on you, the miserable git. I also hope that you haven’t murdered Alfred. Well...perhaps that’s not the worst thing that could happen..._

_Have you apologised to Ivy? If not, you’re a git._

_Say hello to Anna, Mrs Hughes and Daisy!_

_Thomas._

_P.S. When I return, I better not find you in my chair!_

 

Jimmy laughed to himself as read the last line and he shook his head, smirking.

“How’s he getting on?” Anna asked as she continued to sew.

“He’s enjoying himself by the sounds of it. He says the city is very busy.” Jimmy said, tucking Thomas’s letter into his breast pocket.

As his jacket folded back into its place, Jimmy realised that Thomas’s letter was lying over his heart. A soppy idea popped into his head ‘ _it’s like you’re carrying him with you’_ but he quickly shuck it from his thoughts. That was a silly road to go down and it sounded romantic. He doesn’t have romantic feelings towards Thomas so it was daft. Mates didn’t think romantic things like that about each other.

 

* * *

 

Whilst Jimmy sat deep in thought at Downton, Thomas Barrow sat on his guest room windowpane in New York. He felt like he was a child again when he used to climb up his bookshelf to crawl into the high round window in the attic room he had shared with his older brother, Frank, before had left home after a long row with their father. A great sense of nostalgia suddenly washed over him as he realised that he had not thought of his family for years.

Thomas had loved that attic window. It was so high that he had always felt like he was an elf in a tree or a small boy from a fairytale. He had loved fairytales – he still did. The window had been his favourite part of the entire house. He did not grow up in a particularly grand house but to Thomas, it had been a small castle. The ground floor only had a kitchen, a pantry area and a main room, whilst upstairs had two small bedrooms that were occupied by Thomas’s parents and his sister Margaret. When Thomas was very young, he had slept in a small cot in his parent’s room but once he was four, he was moved to the attic with his brother. His stomach dropped at the thought of his siblings and his mother. His mother had been a beautiful, gentle woman who for some reason always had a rather sad air about her. Thomas had been told all his life that he was the spitting image of his mother and in truth, he was. His siblings had taken after their father as they all had rounder features, dark hazel eyes and lighter, curlier brown hair. They were all pale but Thomas and his mother, Alice, had very white porcelain skin. He had been gifted her sharper bone structure, light blue eyes and black hair.

He could picture his mother now scolding his younger self from climbing into the round attic window that he had loved.

_“Thomas, what have I told you climbing into that window! You could break your legs, you silly boy! Come here so I can lift you down. Your father needs to move this bookshelf! I’ve told him a thousand times!”_

He wished that he had brought his mother’s photo with him now. She was tucked away in his drawer at Downton, safe from prying eyes. He had never discussed his mother with anyone but maybe he could tell Jimmy about her one day. Alice Barrow had been a special woman, in more ways than one. She was always helping people, day in, day out. Everyone loved Alice. She was so beautiful and kind but underneath, she had been a very troubled woman. Thomas had known she was sad even when he was six.

He was seven when she died. He had been told that she had drunk some ‘bad water’ and that it made her so sleepy, she didn’t wake up. He had been afraid to sleep for almost two years until his father whacked him one to ‘snap it out of him’. It wasn’t until Thomas was fourteen that he had figured out what the village doctor had meant by ‘bad water’ and ‘sleepy’ when he had lain awake one night in the unfamiliar environment that was Downton Abbey.

He often wondered if the strange sadness that occasionally tided over him every now and again had come from his mother. The anger and resentment must have been passed on to him by his father, if he would call _him_ a father.

_“Your sister and brother are your father’s children. You’re mine.”_

His mother used to say that to him a lot.

He had been happy once, before he was seven. He had been too young to connect with his two older siblings as he had been the ‘surprise’ child. Frank was fourteen when Thomas was born and Margaret had been twelve. They were both adults by the time Thomas was four but they had both adored him whilst they lived at home. It saddened Thomas to think about the night his eighteen year old brother had walked out into the rain after the explosive row with their father.  Thomas had watched him walk away from the kitchen window. He was scooped up by Margaret whilst his father screamed after Frank, calling him _‘a bloody traitor’_. His mother had cried at the foot of the stairs. They never saw Frank again.

Did he miss his brother? Did he even miss his sister? He was not sure.

He had barely even known them.

He had never tried to contact them. He didn’t know where they were. They had never tried to find him either.

Thomas turned his head to gaze out of the window. A small family were crossing the other side of the road below him. The mother was carrying a small boy in her arms. She looked like she would be as gentle a mother as Alice Barrow.

He remembered being bathed by his mother and how gentle her hands had been. He remembered chasing their little black cat around the garden before his mother pulled him into her arms, laughing. He remembered the night when he experienced his first thunder storm and he had been petrified so his mother and Margaret read stories to him. He remembered his mother holding him as she knitted Frank a long scarf. He remembered her morning kisses and her soft whispers, _‘you’re the sweetest little boy ever, my little love’_.

He was no longer sweet now. Thomas sadly wondered if he had become a disappointment to her, like he had to his father when the schoolmaster told Mr Barrow that his son had been caught in the arms of one of the older boys.

_“You are not my son! You don’t belong to this family – or any family! You belong in hell, you sinful little bastard! Get out! Get out and stay out, you foul piece of filth! Your mother did this! She did this, the stupid cow! She was too bloody soft, I told her!”_

Those cruel words had haunted him for years and just when he had finally pushed the image of his father standing over him with a murderous glare, he was reminded of the hateful memory when he was almost thrown from the abbey and scolded by Mr Carson.

“ _Don’t you get clever with me when you should be horsewhipped!_ ”

Thomas pulled his knees to his chest, curling himself into a ball. He rested his forehead on his arms as he felt tears prickle his eyes. This was why he always pushed away thoughts of his family. His past experiences had given him some deep scars and reopening the wounds never did him any good. He needed to concentrate on the present if he was going to survive Downton. He needed to move forward. He couldn’t risk his job again.

He took a few deep breaths before he slowly raised his head, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. To the left, he spotted his red leather diary on the side table beside his bed. He carefully slipped his long legs over the side of the window frame, letting his toes ghost over the wooden floor before he stood. He walked forward and swiped his dairy from the table to check today’s date. It was the 18th. He had three days left in America. Three days before he would see Jimmy again.

His arm moved and as a bright orb of sunlight reflected off the watches face, Thomas caught of the time. It was quarter past five, meaning he had another hour and a half before he would need to prepare his Lordship for supper. A shadow streaked past his window, alarming him as he whipped around to see what was outside. It was just a bird. The daft animal swooped past again, looking for god knows what. He walked over to the window again and looked up at the blue sky. The air suddenly seemed to thicken around him, so heavy and suffocating that he felt as though he had been pulled under water. He dove forward and scrambled along the window until he was able pull the latch open, allowing cool, fresh air to wash over him. It was calming, like a balm when smoothed over an itch. He allowed himself to take a few deep breaths before he lay down on his bed.

He was bored.

He had nothing to do today. He supposed he could get off his arse and go for a little walk but he couldn’t be bothered. He had brought a few of his favourite books, in particular his poetry collection book but he had read them all a thousand times and he assumed that Lady Grantham’s family wouldn’t appreciate an acting valet riffling through their American bookshelf. They would probably have some interesting novels...what a shame.

He tried to imagine what everyone would be up to back at Downton, especially Jimmy. He would likely be helping Alfred complete a task before the family took luncheon. If not, hopefully the two footmen weren’t strangling each other whilst Ivy cried as she watched, pleading with the men to stop - poor Ivy. Mr Patmore would likely clobber them with her skillet. Imagining Mrs Patmore battering the two footmen made the under butler snort but on a more serious note, he hoped that Jimmy would apologise to Ivy soon. It wasn’t fair to the young kitchen maid when Jimmy acted so shoddily towards her, especially when the poor girl was so sweet. She was a daft, dreamy ninny and a very simple soul, but she was a good enough lass.

“ _Is she good enough for Jimmy though?”_ He wondered to himself.

How could he ask that? Shouldn’t he question whether Jimmy was good enough for her? Jimmy had tried his luck with her, was rightfully rejected and proceeded to be an arse when he was around her. Although it was wrong of him, Thomas knew exactly what he had meant. It was a terrible thing to admit but he had known from the very first flirtatious glance between the footman and the kitchen maid that the pair were going nowhere. Ivy was of a sweet girl but ‘sweet’ was not Jimmy Kent’s style. Jimmy needed someone with a stronger character, someone who knew their own mind and was able to form their own opinions without his approval. Ivy had no backbone, bless her gentle soul and she was too childish.  The right person to truly capture Jimmy Kent’s heart would need to have wit, courage, intelligence and the ability to be forward with their sexual needs. Thomas could tell from his conversations with Jimmy that he loathed women who beat around the bush, too tentative to come out and just say it was they bloody wanted. Jimmy needed a person to keep him on his toes, sexually, romantically and intelligence wise; something that Ivy would never be able to provide. She was a ‘stand by your man’ girl the same as the majority off country lasses and she would expect a marriage proposal before the sun was up.

Perhaps a selfish part of Thomas had been revelled in Ivy’s failure to begin a steady relationship with Jimmy. He could not deny that he loved the attention he received from Jimmy and that because his friend had no other priorities Thomas was always at the top of his list. Being around the footman still unnerved him and sometimes it physically and emotionally _hurt_ Thomas to be so close to the man, yet so far. Terrible flashbacks of _that night_ still burned holes into his dreams and he still felt sick at the thought that he had forced himself upon another man. How could he have had the audacity to do so, even when a part of him had always known that he had no hope? Thomas concluded that these feelings, his stupid notions of love, a love that was unrequited, needed to be put to rest for good. They were friends. That had to be enough.

 

* * *

 

The grey mist that had covered England seemed to have swept across the Atlantic, bringing rain and a chill to New York. Thomas had always preferred the sun so he was not disappointed to be leaving American when the weather had changed to dramatically. He hoped that the miserable weather was not an omen for his return to Downton. Lord Grantham had been irritable on their return journey so both men were relieved when they finally arrived back at Downton. It was late in the evening when his Lordship’s car pulled into the gravelled driveway as Carson, Jimmy and Alfred stood by to greet the two men. Lord Grantham was whisked away to join the family for evening drinks and late night conversation. Thomas flopped into a hard, wooden chair in the servant’s hall with a hot cup of tea and an egg with friend bread from Mrs Patmore. Mr Carson had offered his gratitude to Thomas and told him that his Lordship had praised him highly. Mr Bates even offered him a kind word and hoped that Thomas had enjoyed the trip. Anna had patted his shoulder when she had past him, along with a gentle, polite smile.

He was exhausted but he happily told the staff a few tales about the beauty of the bustling city and the decadent ferry he had travelled on.

Soon the hours dwindled away and after some jolly piano playing from Jimmy, the rest of the staff began to filter out of the servant’s hall, finally leaving Jimmy and Thomas alone.

Jimmy continued to play a few notes on the piano as Thomas stood up to head for the backdoor. He felt guilty for ignoring his friend but hopefully Jimmy had sensed that he was too tired for banter tonight.

Pushing the back door open, Thomas sighed with relief as he stepped out into the courtyard. He really did love being alone in the dark, especially when the night sky was so clear. He caught his reflection in a window and admired how the moonlight created shadows over his face that emphasised his cheekbones. He supposed that Jimmy was right when he said that they were _both_ vain. Thomas didn’t think he was the best looking bloke around (that award would go to Jimmy) but he could see an appeal when he drank in how sharp his cheeks –

“I told you that you couldn’t pass a mirror without looking at yourself! In this case it’s a window.” Jimmy teased from the doorway. He wore a mischievous smile as he shook his head at his friend, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

“I was checking to see if my hair had grown.” Thomas lied, pulling one of his cigarettes from his pocket.

Jimmy walked over to him and yawned before he leant against the wall next to Thomas. He watched the under butler take drag from his cigarette and swallowed as the smoke circled around the other man’s lips. He couldn’t blame Thomas for admiring himself, even if he was allegedly checking his hair. The two men stood in silence for a few moments, both of them content to just stand next to each other. Jimmy had missed Thomas so terribly that he was tempted to take his friend’s gloved hand as it hung loosely next to him but that would have been ridiculous. Friends didn’t hold hands for god’s sake, men in particular. It simply wasn’t done. He glanced down at Thomas’s glove however, wondering what the leather would feel like against his palm.

“You don’t need to hang around, you know.” Thomas broke the silence. “I’m knackered so I won’t be too chatty. You can just go to bed and we can talk tomorrow.”

Jimmy pursed his lips and looked at Thomas again. “Nah, I don’t mind. Unless you want some peace? I won’t be offended.”

Thomas shrugged and took another long drag, leaning his head back against the wall. “I don’t mind you standing with me, it’s not that. I just don’t want to keep you up.”

Jimmy gave him a tired smile shook his head. “I’m fine. I know you’re not feeling chatty but did you enjoy New York? You seemed to but I can never tell when you talk to the other’s if you’re being completely honest. Besides, who was the very nice lawyer with the nice car?”

Thomas had forgotten that he had included Johnathon Fisher, the lawyer from Chicago, in his letter. He had been quite tired when he wrote it and he hadn’t been fully aware of what information he had shared with his friend. He glanced awkwardly at Jimmy and found his friend smiling at him, looking as charming and dashing as ever.

Jimmy nudged him and raised his eyebrows again as if to say, _‘come on, confess!_ ’

Thomas rubbed the back of neck and tried to keep a frustrated, yet amused smile off his face. The little bugger never missed a trick, did he?

“He wasn’t anybody really. He showed me his business card and he liked that I was from England.” Thomas said in a passive tone.

Jimmy snorted. “What was he showing you his business card for?”

Thomas did not have an answer to his friend’s question. “I wasn’t sure actually, he was probably just showing off. He was a bit too brash for my tastes but he bought the drinks so I was happy enough to go along with it all. Plus, that club had bloody good music. You would have loved it there. I could imagine you up on the stage with the band.”

Jimmy flashed him a cheeky smirk. “Imagine me often, did you?”

Thomas hoped to god that he didn’t blush but he supposed that since it had been made painfully obvious that he had been interested in Jimmy, he might as well join in with his friend’s jokes and the teasing.

“No. Sorry to disappoint.” He smirked.

Jimmy scoffed in mock offense and tipped his chin up. “I’m rather offended, Mr Barrow.”

“So you should be,” Thomas nodded firmly. “You won’t get another after you with these cheekbones.”

Jimmy laughed and darted forward to point at Thomas’s chest. “Ha! I knew you were looking at yourself! You can’t be nagging on at me for my vanity now, can you?”

Thomas rolled his eyes and threw Jimmy a condescending smirk. “My ego will never inflate as much as yours, I’ll tell you that.”

Jimmy laughed and gave him a playful kick. “Piss off! I’m surprised that head of yours fits in abbey.”

“I’m surprised yours fits the whole bloody country!”

“Pff.” Jimmy scoffed, flapping his hand at Thomas. “I don’t admire myself as I glow in the moonlight.”

“You admire yourself every other time of day.” Thomas quipped, earning himself another kick to the ankle.

The two men engaged in a play fight as they teased and swore at each other. They felt like they were young boys again, pushing each other around in a school yard. Mr Carson had berated all of the younger male staff for acting childishly at some point, Jimmy in particular. Had he seen the two men now, his past scolds would have been proven correct. The two men stopped and eventually just laughed against the wall.

“I missed you when you were away.” Jimmy said after he had gained control over his lungs again. “It was boring here without you.”

Thomas smiled sincerely at him, feeling very bashful. “Well thanks, Jimmy. I missed you too. I wish you could have seen New York as well.”

“Me too,” Jimmy sighed longingly. “So who was that Molly lass? Was she after you?”

Thomas smiled and nodded, turning to grin at Jimmy. “She was disappointed when I lied that I was married. I told her about you and that perked her up. She was like a female version of you actually, just a bit cleverer – ow!”

Jimmy kicked him again and laughed. “Sounds nice.”

Thomas finished off his cigarette as he nodded. Jimmy looked at him again and gave his friend another smile before he looked down at his polished shoes. He would like to meet a pretty American girl. He wondered if they would be more fun.

“Hey, was that lawyer fun?” Jimmy asked.

Thomas threw the butt of his cigarette away and straightened his jacket before he nodded. “I suppose so. In all honesty, I was enjoying the club more than him. The men I met in city were alright but John was still a stand out –“

Jimmy’s head whipped around to stare at his friend as a wicked grin crept onto his face. “Who’s _John?_ ” He asked, curiously excited.

Thomas groaned and shut his eyes for a moment. “Fine. I wasn’t going to say anything just because you would tease me something rotten –“

Jimmy’s eyes widened as he leant close towards the other man. “Oh ho ho! Now you _have_ to tell me!”

Thomas seemed lost for words for a moment before he slumped against the wall in defeat. “He was a steward on the boat and he gave me a funny look. He offered to carry my bags to my room –“

“What a gentleman.” Jimmy crooned in a silly, breathy voice. This time he was given a kick.

“Oh shut up! It was odd because what steward takes that responsibility from another steward? He claimed it was because he would be off for his break soon so the other one agreed. He stalled in my room then found he later on the deck. He’d seen me before in a club in Liverpool…it was a…special club, if you get my –“

Jimmy nodded. “A club where the likes of you go.”

Thomas laughed. “Yeah, a club for the likes of me. No, it’s fine. Anyway he had seen me before. He came to my room later and there you go.”

Jimmy stood staring at him for a moment before he broke into a cheeky smile again. “Thomas Barrow, you naughty bugger! What would Lord Grantham have said, eh? Right, we’re celebrating in my room! Whiskey for all!”

Thomas was in such high spirits after his and Jimmy’s play fight that he agreed against his better judgement. The two men snuck into the footman’s room as quietly as possible so that they wouldn’t wake anyone. Jimmy threw himself over his bed and pulled up a full bottle of whiskey from underneath his mattress. He quickly shoved his shoes off and shuffled around on the bed before he made room for the other man. Thomas kicked off his shoes and settled himself next to his friend just like he had the last time. Jimmy cracked the whiskey open and took a hearty swig before he passed it over to Thomas. The pair drank quietly and far too quickly but neither could care when they both so happy to be spending time together again. Soon the bottle was three quarters empty and the two men were feeling a little light headed. Jimmy wiggled his toes and laughed when they cracked, which caused Thomas to throw his hand over the footman’s mouth to silence him.

“Shh! You’ll wake somebody up, you stupid git.” He warned.

Jimmy pulled away from Thomas’s hand and put a finger to his lips. “Sorry, I was watching my toes.”

Thomas gave him a quizzical look and shook his head. “Right you are.”

Jimmy snickered and began to tap his foot to an imaginary beat whilst Thomas took another swig of whiskey. A small drop caught on the under butler’s lip as he pulled the bottle away. Before Thomas could lick the whiskey away, Jimmy reached across and swiped his thumb across the other man’s red lip. Thomas froze at the contact, shocked that the man he was desperately attracted to was wiping his mouth. Jimmy’s smooth thumb seemed to linger slightly against Thomas’s bottom lip but Thomas was sure he was only imagining this. Jimmy pulled away but he was captivated by his friend’s parted mouth. Thomas had such a lovely mouth.

“Er thanks.” Thomas said quietly. The atmosphere became slightly tense so Thomas quickly passed the liquor to his friend as a distraction.

Jimmy accepted the bottle and took a long drink, swallowing a few decent mouthfuls before he dropped the bottle between him and the under butler. He turned to face Thomas again, his gaze returning to his mouth. Thomas shifted slightly and tried to think of a conversation starter.

“Thomas?” Jimmy began quietly, still watching the under butler’s mouth.

Thomas swallowed, hoping that he wasn’t blushing. “Yes?”

Jimmy seemed to ponder something for a few moments before he continued, “You met a few men over there in the States then, as well as your steward from Liverpool?”

Thomas nodded slowly, unsure where this conversation was headed.

“Is it too rude to ask what you lot actually _do?_ ” The footman said quietly. “I know you like to be buggered, you’ve said that. It’s just...I know you can use your mouth on people. Is there anything else? Apart from getting them off with your hand, that’s obvious.”

Thomas swallowed and this time he definitely knew he was blushing. He quickly glanced at Jimmy and was immediately struck by how blue his eyes were. He knew that Jimmy had lovely eyes but he had never truly _seen_ them until now and they were just very lovely. His eyes were made up of various shades of blue flecks, reminding Thomas of the ocean when the sky is clear. Jimmy could easily be a merman or some sort of mythical being. He was so golden and handsome, just like a prince charming from a fairytale.

“If it’s too personal to ask, that’s alright.” Jimmy shrugged, giving Thomas a nudge.

Thomas blinked repeatedly and tried to form an answer to the footman’s question. “Er it’s fine, honest. I just...do you really want to know?”

“Well yeah,” Jimmy nodded. “I’m just curious.”

Thomas huffed in amazement for a moment. He leaned further back against his friend’s bed frame and gently scratched his hand. “You can use your hands on another man, just like how you get yourself off. You can use your mouth and suck them off. You can be buggered by another man. They’re the three main things. Sex is more than that though, Jimmy. Whether someone is with another woman or another man, there’s always more than the...the _common_ ways to have sex. Some people can get off just by being touched and kissed. Some people can get off by rutting against the other person. It all depends.”

Jimmy nodded and stretched himself out across his bed. “Can I ask what you did with the men you were with? I’ll tell you about Eleanor from York if you want to know.”

Thomas shrugged. “Go on then. What did you do with her?" 

Jimmy smiled softly and picked at a loose thread on his jacket. “I pleasured her first, you know? Then I shagged her. Then she sucked me off. That’s what we did. She was alright at it all, except for the last part. I had to basically guide her through that but she did it willingly.”

Thomas, tipsy on the strong whiskey, laughed and blurted out, “that’s my specialty, supposedly!”

Jimmy spat out a laugh and had to cover his mouth as he spluttered. A minute or so passed before he composed himself with steadying breaths. He looked at his friend with watery eyes and flushed cheeks before he whispered, “you’re a nutter! Are you serious?”

Thomas shrugged and gave the other man a small, shy smile; his eyes shining with amusement. “Yeah...I’ve always been told I was good at that." 

Jimmy rolled onto his side and hid his face in his pillow to muffle his laughter. Thomas frowned at him but he was not offended in the slightest, only entertained. He gave his friend a kick and received a sharp elbow jab in return. Jimmy finally sat up and rubbed his eyes, which only served to redden his face further.

“Well then, I reckon those stewards and those American lawyers were all lucky sods, don’t you think?” Jimmy said breathlessly, still recovering from his silent laughing fit.

Thomas blushed and lowered himself down so he was half-lying against the headboard. He always knew that he had some skill in bed as he often received a few compliments and he was always able to get blokes off fairly quickly when he needed to.

“So are you keeping in contact with any of them?”Jimmy asked, wiping his eyes again. “Was that steward a yank?" 

Thomas shook his head, “no, John was English. He’s from Nottingham but he lives in Liverpool when he’s on land.”

Jimmy smiled and leant back against the bed. “Oh. So you could actually see him?”

“He gave me his brother’s address so I could write to him,” Thomas smiled. “I think I would like to see him again when he’s back from sea. It would be hard to arrange but I would like to at least try to meet him one more time." 

“Well it can hard to meet up with people. I tried that with a few lasses and it never worked. You might be stuck with me for company for awhile longer, mate.” Jimmy yawned.

He felt slightly put out that the steward lived so close by. Liverpool was only a train journey away. He wasn’t sure why he felt a little ruffled by this information, perhaps because he didn’t want to left alone, bored when Thomas was far away. It’s typical to feel protective of a close friend.

Thomas nodded slowly. “I know. I suppose you’re alright company so it won’t be so bad.”

“I’m great company!” Jimmy bleated with a sharp tone of arrogance. “Besides, if you ever get desperate, why don’t you show me your specialty? I’ll not be getting any from Ivy or anyone, will I?” The footman chortled as he wriggled about on his bed, trying to get himself into a more comfortable position.

The under butler immediately froze next to him.

Thomas blinked and realised that his shock would be obvious if he did not speak soon. He forced himself to laugh and he shook his head, attempting to appear indifferent to his friend’s comment but inside his heart was racing, beating so quickly that he was afraid to breathe deeply. He couldn’t bring his mind to fully process Jimmy’s words, words that were too good to be true. His mouth felt very dry suddenly and there was no water in the room, only the whiskey that would only dehydrate him more. The air suddenly felt very heavy too, as suffocating as it had done when Thomas needed to open his window in New York. Without fully thinking, Thomas leapt from Jimmy’s bed to pull the footman’s window open. He need cool, calming air as soon as possible for the walls felt as though they were closing in on him, setting a trap that would squeeze all of the air out of him. He would surely choke if he did not open the window _now_.

“What’s the matter?” Jimmy asked as he watched his friend curiously. “What are you doing?”

Thomas ignored his questions and shook his head quickly, finally pulling the window open. The sudden movement made him feel very faint and weak but the rush of cool air over his face allowed him to breathe again. He closed his eyes and forced himself to inhale deeply, just as he had done in New York. His hands clutched the window frame tightly to steady himself as the chilly air breezed across his warm cheeks.

“Nothing, I just feel funny after drinking that too fast.” He finally answered Jimmy, pointing at the whiskey bottle that lay next to the younger man.

Jimmy scoffed and chucked softly as he watched Thomas shrug and swallow a lump in his throat. He observed how flushed Thomas’s cheeks were, which made him look healthier compared to the man’s usual pallor. He had a very elegant pale neck was and his skin looked as though it would be smooth to touch, possibly as soft as a woman’s since it was clear that he had shaved recently.

Thomas flinched when he shot a glance at Jimmy, uncomfortable under his gaze. Heat pooled into his cheeks again and he was horribly embarrassed when Jimmy laughed.

“Don’t tell me you’re drunk already! You’ve just got back and you’ll be in Carson’s black book.” Jimmy teased. The footman sat up and continued to watch Thomas.

The under butler flinched again, closing his eyes to concentrate on taking another deep breath of cold night air. He was being foolish getting so flustered over a light hearted comment.

“Hey,” Jimmy called softly, patting the space next to him. “Sit down again. We need to finish this drink.” He held the bottle up and waved it at the under butler.

Thomas shook his head. “It’s very late, Jimmy. I need to go to bed.”

The footman tutted and quickly rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, there’s not much left. Are you a true lightweight, Mr Barrow?”

Thomas threw a frown at the other man but he couldn’t remain too irritated when his friend was flashing him such a charming, cheeky grin. He knew that he should return to his own room but Jimmy had such an effect on him that he often couldn’t help giving in to the younger man’s whims and wants. He was a weak, pathetic and he a part of him knew it, deep down. He couldn’t help himself, despite knowing that Jimmy was right that he would likely be in Carson’s bad books in the morning, but the under butler found himself slowly crossing the room to sit next to the footman again.

“That’s the ticket,” Jimmy grinned. “Bottoms up.”

The pair continued to pass the near empty bottle back and forth until Jimmy was given the final swig and then the bottle was tossed onto the floor by his bed. The men basked in the warmth that the alcohol gave them and they fell into easy, sleep conversation that took them from the subject of politics to Mr Mosely’s ever growing bald patch. Eventually Jimmy lay back on his bed and smiled up at Thomas.

“Whenever I’ve had a good drink, I always want to kiss someone. Do you?” Jimmy asked, sighing softly. 

Thomas blushed slightly, which made him cringe internally but he ignored his embarrassment and hoped that Jimmy would blame his pink cheeks on their alcohol consumption. “I suppose so.” He answered.

Jimmy nodded and smiled happily. “Did those blokes on the trip kiss you?”

“The steward did.” Thomas said quietly. “You’re awfully fascinated by my personal affairs, Mr Kent. You aren’t my mother.”

“I know,” Jimmy shrugged, looking slightly awkward. “I’m just curious. I don’t know much about the men of lavender persuasion. I just want to understand it.”

“I know, I’m just teasing.” Thomas said, giving Jimmy a quick smile. “Do you always kiss the girls you have a quick fumble with?”

The younger man’s expression turned from a lax, easy smile to a confused frown. “Do you know what, I’m not sure? I reckon I always do. So you lot don’t then? That’s a bit sad.”

“Well you can’t get too attached, can you? We also need to be quick if we’re in public. You can’t be hanging around with your tongue down a fella’s throat for ten minutes.”

Jimmy’s face scrunched up and he gave Thomas a look of a amused disgust. “I hate it when people describe kissing like that.”

“It’s what it is.” Thomas sniggered.

Jimmy snorted and looked up at the ceiling. Thomas glanced at his friend and found that he appeared to be deep in thought. He shifted his shoulders slightly and leant further back against the head of Jimmy’s bed to ease some of the pressure on his shoulders.

“Thomas?” Jimmy started quietly.

“Hmm?” He replied, watching his friend carefully.

“Did you like kissing me then?” Jimmy asked, quickly shooting the under butler a look before he faced the ceiling again.

Thomas felt his heart rate increase again as he considered Jimmy’s sentence. How was he supposed to answer that question? Of course he liked it…at least until Alfred burst in and he was thrown out like a dead, filthy rat.

Jimmy’s lips had been so very soft to touch. They were full, pink and felt like pillows when he pressed his own lips onto the footman’s. The other man had kissed him back for a few seconds but who wouldn’t when they were half-asleep? Why the fuck had he thought that kissing someone without their permission was a good fucking idea? What an idiot he was! Poor Jimmy would – 

“Well? You can be honest.” Jimmy pressed, nudging Thomas. “I’ve always wondered what other people thought when they kissed me but it’s not a question you can ask someone in the moment. Tell me, please.”

Thomas didn’t know how to build up the courage to be honest, never mind form an articulate sentence.

He blinked when he felt a tap on his arm as the footman attempted to prompt an answer from him again.

“If it’s any help, you weren’t a bad kisser you know.” Jimmy whispered to his friend. He was blushing slightly but he appeared determined to gain an answer from Thomas.

“Oh – well,” Thomas mumbled as he tried to speak.

“You have really soft lips. No wonder you can pull all those lawyers and your stewards and grocers.” Jimmy joked, attempting to lighten the mood. “If a woman had your mouth then I would definitely make sure that I kissed her.”

It was Thomas’s turn to blush again and the under butler hung his head. “Well…thanks. You have nice lips too, obviously or –“

“Cheers!” Jimmy smiled. “I’ve been told that before.”

Thomas’s shame and embarrassment faded slightly as Jimmy’s vanity shone through, as always. How on earth could he think that their egos were equal? Jimmy’s head barely fit within the universe.

“I bet you have.” The under butler said, shaking his head as he smiled.

Jimmy grinned. “I’m glad something was worth all of that bother then.”

Thomas gave Jimmy a look and raised his left hand, swearing at his friend with his fingers. The footman laughed and knocked his hand away, giving Thomas a shove. He shoved Jimmy back and the two ended up pulling each other about in another play fight as they giggled away.

“Right, stop - stop!”Thomas whispered. “We’ll wake the others!”

“At least it cheered you up.” Jimmy whispered back, smiling.

Thomas shook his head and raised his hand slightly to stop the conversation. “It's fine, Jimmy. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

“Well like I said, you weren’t a bad kisser. You’ve got soft lips.” The footman shrugged. “If I ever had to kiss a man again, be for life or death, riches or poverty, I’d choose you.”

“Pfft,” Thomas huffed as he reached upwards to brush a stray hair away from his eye but he was amused at the footman’s declaration, the daft sod.

“I mean it, I’d choose you.” Jimmy chuckled.

“Well thanks,” Thomas muttered as yet another faint blush tinted his cheeks. “If ever have to kiss a man who likes women I’ll pick you. We’ll both become rich and we’ll both avoid death.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Jimmy smirked.

“Here’s to hoping you never have to.” Thomas said quietly, staring down at his waistcoat. He had spilled a few drops of whiskey on the right side of the buttons. “I need to wash this –“

Jimmy sighed and leaned closer to Thomas. “Please don’t start being soft on me now. I don’t think it would be disgusting or wrong to kiss you anymore. I told you, I’m glad I’ve become friends with someone like you. My eyes have been opened.”

Thomas shook his head, “I didn’t mean –“

“Come here then.” Jimmy said firmly. “Give is a kiss then. You said you would pick me if you have to choose.”

Thomas’s mouth fell open and he stared at Jimmy in horror. The bloody drink had gone to his head for certain!

“I’m coming on to _you_ this time so it’s fine.” Jimmy shrugged.

Thomas barely even stuttered out a cry of ‘no’ before the footman’s lips suddenly pressed against his. Jimmy Kent’s full, warm lips were in direct contact with his own and had not been the initiator. The other man’s lips were still just as soft and gentle as he remembered but he could not kiss his friend back. He remained still, unmoving and waited for the footman to pull away.

After what could have been seconds or even hours, Thomas could not tell, Jimmy moved away from Thomas and slouched back against the headboard. Upon seeing Thomas’s face, the footman burst out laughing and quickly yanked his pillow from underneath him and Thomas to cover his face. 

“Shhh!” Thomas hissed. “You have to be quiet!”

Jimmy moved his pillow away, red faced as he took rasping breaths to control himself. “Your face!”

Thomas punched his arm and tried to force a stern expression onto his face but he was too happy to scold Jimmy. “I wasn’t look for a kiss!”

“Oh.” Jimmy said, coving his mouth with his hands to silence his giggles.

“You called _me_ drunk! Will you be throwing yourself onto Carson in the morning?” Thomas joked, poking Jimmy in the arm.

Jimmy looked as though he was going to choke as he doubled over. “Shhh!”

The two men huddled together and tried to hold in their laughter with watery eyes as slowly, minutes passed by which turned into an hour. Thomas’s head had dropped to the left and he was leaning on Jimmy’s warm shoulder. The footman had subconsciously circled arm around his friend so his hand wouldn’t be crushed behind him as he lay with his head tilted upwards and his eyes closed. Both men’s eyes had already begun to droop but now they were gently lulled to sleep by the gentle night breeze that slipped through the window and the warm that radiated from their bodies. As Jimmy fell into a deeper sleep, his body became more lax and his posture lowered as his sloping shoulder allowed the sleeping under butler’s head to fall onto Jimmy’s chest.

As the two men slept, Jimmy’s curtains gently fluttered against the small windowsill but no sound or cold gust disturbed the footman and his under butler. Far beyond the abbey, the bright, pale moon patiently ambled across the starry night sky as dawn slowly approached, allowing in their absence Mr Sun to appear over the distant rolling hills; a greeting to the brand new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy is going to wake up with Thomas in his arms.  
> Will it be a sweet or sour reaction from the footman? How will Thomas feel?
> 
> Now that Thomas will be back at work at the abbey, will Mrs Hughes spot any strange behaviour between the two men?  
> Thomas also has one last trick up his sleeve...Lady Grantham needs a new maid so enter Miss Baxter soon.
> 
> Please feel free to comment ANYTHING if you wish to do so, positive or negative.  
> I will always try to reply to ever comment.


	8. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy needs a reality check, a kick up the arse and a cold shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to explain once again that some of the opinions and thoughts expressed by Jimmy AND Thomas are not opinions or views that I share or agree with.  
> This is the 1920's.  
> It's sad that in 2016, you can still find people who are just as sexist, homophobic and ignorant.

Golden rays of honey sunlight streamed into Jimmy’s room the next morning where the two men lay sleeping, curled against each other like new born pups. The open window allowed a gentle chorus of sweetly tweeting birds to rouse Jimmy, although he was still too groggy to fully register his surroundings. Warmth was the only thought that he could process; he felt warm. His face was tucked into something very soft and pleasant smelling, whilst a weight on his chest draped over his right leg like a heavy blanket. He took a deep sigh before stretching his right arm and was confused to find himself feeling very stiff. Also, something was stopping him from stretching his arm out fully. Before he could open his eyes, a small, sleepy mumble startled him and he felt something shuffle next to him.

“Mmm,” Thomas groaned softly. “I fell asleep here?”

Jimmy stilled, still unable to open his eyes, and felt the weight on the right side of his body shift. He carefully reached his hand out to try and feel for the presence in his room and found that his hand fell onto something shapely, strong and smooth - someone’s thigh.

“Jimmy, what time is it?” Thomas yawned, stretching his arms upwards.

There was still no response from the young footman, bar the hand that was splayed across the top of his thigh. Thomas rubbed his eyes then looked at Jimmy, who was frowning. He gave the other man a nudge and watched him groan before he forced his eyes open.

“Oh, we fell asleep.” Jimmy muttered, stifling a yawn. “Bloody hell, I feel stiff.”

Thomas nodded and stretched his arms out again, yawning. As the under butler continued to stretch, Jimmy rolled onto his side to look at the face of his alarm clock. It was quarter to six. Thank the lord nobody would be up and about yet.

“Thomas,” Jimmy yawned. “It’s quarter to six. You can sneak back to your room.”

Thomas’s arms dropped and his expression grew solemn. “Shit! Anyone could have walked in and –“

“Shh,” Jimmy hissed. “It’s alright, no one is up. Quickly go to your room.”

Thomas nodded and pulled himself up from the bed, almost toppling himself forward which made Jimmy snort in amusement. The under butler adjusted his waistcoat and shirt before he half-limped to the door, clearly suffering from a dead leg.

“Don’t limp down the corridor!” Jimmy whispered as he smirked. “You coming out of here with a limp. That wouldn’t look too good, would it?”

Thomas grimaced and shook his head. “Bloody hell,” he spat, “See you at breakfast.”

“I know we’ll be tired today but don’t be a grumpy bugger, alright?” Jimmy yawned, half smiling.

Thomas just rolled his eyes and trudged out of his friend’s room as quietly as possible. It would be a disaster if Mr Carson or anyone were to be roused and saw him coming out of Jimmy’s room, especially after what happened the last time. He would definitely lose his job.

An hour later, Thomas and Jimmy were eating their breakfast along with the rest of the staff. The under butler was relieved that he had succeeded in sneaking back to his room without being caught. Had Mr Carson or god forbid Mr Bates saw him tip-toeing out of Jimmy’s room, he would have been arrested within the hour. Knowing this made him feel uneasy about waking up in Jimmy’s arms, no matter how lovely that had felt, and he was concerned that his friend would be uncomfortable. Jimmy may have kissed him but that was just for fun. He was a little drunk and he felt rebellious, surely. Finding a homosexual in your arms the next morning was an entirely different matter. Just when he and Jimmy were beginning to mend their relationship, he’s gone and thrown that out of the window. It was completely his fault. He should have left before they finished that bottle. He should have forced himself to leave – staying had just been lazy on his part. Allowing himself to sleep on the footman’s bed was over stepping a line that had already been worn very thin. He had made a serious error.

Now that he was sitting at breakfast on show in front of all of the staff, he decided that he would try to avoid making eye contact with Jimmy, all the while making sure that nothing appeared to be wrong. He had noted previously that ever since the disaster night, Mrs Hughes seemed to be keeping her eye on him and Jimmy. If she sensed something was amiss, she would fix Thomas with a strange look that was never quite a frown, yet never quite a pitiful glance. She just seemed to want to be aware of anything that took place between the two men, possibly out of concern for Jimmy. Thomas did not know that it was in fact he who Mrs Hughes wanted to look out for, not Jimmy. To avoid an awkward conversation with housekeeper, Thomas forced himself to smile and answered questions about his trip New York, what he did and after a little whilst, he found that he was grateful to be the centre of everyone’s attention. Previously when Thomas had been in the spotlight it was because he had done something wrong, whether it was making a snide comment at William or teasing Mr Bates. For the first time in a long time, Thomas felt included. He wasn’t simply sitting at the table, he was a part of a conversation; a conversation that was directed at him. He didn’t need to interrupt someone else’s or wait for an opportunity to speak and if the under butler had been able to have a second to himself, he would have admitted in his thoughts that he enjoyed it, the kind attention. Plus, it was a distraction from Jimmy.

The rest of the day passed relatively easy and quickly for Thomas. The Crawley’s and Tom Branson had asked about his wellbeing, he had continued to get on well with the other servants and Mr Carson even complimented him on his quick thinking at dinner when there was almost a disaster over the pea soup. Whilst everyone else in the household was as kind as they could be towards him, Thomas knew that as the day went on, Jimmy began to lose his patience with him. He had to keep a look out for the footman when he rounded the corners of the main house. He avoided taking a break when he knew Jimmy was downstairs. He purposely created extra tasks for himself so he could avoid being in the same room as the younger man. Was his behaviour childish? Yes, it was a little. He was also being rather cowardly as well, he knew it. He was just too anxious to speak to the footman again after waking up in his bed.

As Thomas carried out a task upstairs, Jimmy sat in servants hall with a cup of tea, sulking. He was constantly receiving sharp glances from Mrs Hughes and he tried his best to ignore the housekeeper as he didn’t fancy having a conversation with her. He purposely sipped his tea loudly when he noticed that Mrs Hughes was about to speak to him, hoping that his echoing slurp would keep her quiet but Mr Carson suddenly swept into the room and stopped in his tracks.

“James, don’t drink your tea like that, it’s vulgar!” Mr Carson snapped.

Jimmy swallowed his tea and looked up at the butler with large eyes in an attempt to feign innocent. “Sorry Mr Carson.”

The butler shook his head and marched out of the room again. Across the table, Alfred smirked at him, looking incredibly smug. Jimmy wished that he could give him a good thump.

“James, can I have a quick word with you in private?” Mrs Hughes asked, standing from her chair.

Jimmy would have liked to have said no but when he currently had nothing to do, he had no excuse or reason to deny her request. ‘ _Fantastic,’_ he thought moodily. He followed the older woman out into the corridor and stopped when Mrs Hughes paused in front of the kitchen door. Mrs Patmore was barking orders at Ivy so they wouldn’t be overheard but Jimmy hoped that Carson wouldn’t stride past as he didn’t want to be cornered by the butler as well.

“James,” Mrs Hughes started, “I’ve noticed that Mr Barrow looked a little peaky at breakfast this morning. I know you and him have become good friends again. He hasn’t picked up a cold from his trip has he? He mentioned that he had spent time on the deck when he travelled to New York. Has he picked up a cold and is ignoring it?”

Jimmy blinked at the housekeeper and had to fight with himself not to release a sigh of relief. He had been waiting for her to tackle him on why Thomas had been distant with him all day and he didn’t want any of the staff to think that something odd had occurred between them.

“I don’t think so, Mrs Hughes. He seems fine to me.” Jimmy replied earnestly. He couldn’t turn around and say to her ‘ _his health is fine Mrs Hughes; he’s just ignoring me because we slept together in my bed last night – an accident, of course.’_

The housekeeper’s expression relaxed slightly and she gave the footman a small smile. “Well that’s alright then. Thank you, James. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t have to scold him for pretending he’s fine when he’s coming down with a cold.”

Jimmy forced a laugh and returned Mrs Hughes smile, although his was slightly too tight to be natural but Mrs Hughes didn’t appear to notice. “Mr Barrow is fine, I’m sure.”

“Very well,” She nodded. She indicated her head to the right. “Go and get on with your work then.”

“Can I finish my cup of tea first?” Jimmy asked as a more genuine, cheeky smile lit up his face.

He received a stern, yet amused expression from the woman who nodded at him before she turned away, likely heading for Mr Carson’s office. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly, the very man he was just discussing came trudging down the stairs. He watched Thomas grip the railing as he hopped down from the final step and couldn’t believe it when he saw the under butler sniff. Thomas did look rather wan, more pallid than normal.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Jimmy said loudly.

Thomas looked up, startled and turned left to see Jimmy looking at him bug-eyed. The footman shook and his and waggled his finger at him.

“I just told a concerned Mrs Hughes that you didn’t seem sick to me. You’ve got a bloody cold, haven’t you?”

Thomas squared his shoulders slightly and shook his head. “I have not. I just sniffed. People do that even when they haven’t got a cold.”

Jimmy gave him a look of disbelief. “Right. Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?”

“I haven’t ignored you, I’ve just been busy.” Thomas lied. “I need to get on.”

The under butler nudged past Jimmy and walked into the servant’s hall where he heard Thomas ask Anna for her black thread. He suspected that he knew why his friend was trying to ignore him. Thomas was afraid that he was worried about the fact that they had accidentally fell asleep next to each other in the same bed. Thomas was concerned that he would feel uncomfortable or think that Thomas had purposely stayed in Jimmy’s bed.

‘ _I’ll talk to him later’_ , he thought to himself.

Suddenly Jimmy almost leapt out of his skin when unknown to him, Carson had returned from his office and called out to him, “James! You are loitering in the corridor!”

 

When evening finally came, Jimmy and Thomas found themselves alone in the servant’s hall together as always. Jimmy wondered if the rest of the servant’s did this on purpose so that they wouldn’t disturb them because he was sure that before _that night_ , Alfred and Mosley used to often stay up as late as he did. It was raining heavily outside so Thomas had his smoke indoors with Jimmy. The under butler was relaxing in his beloved rocking chair reading his paper whilst Jimmy tapped a rhythm onto the large wooden table, never taking his eyes off Thomas.

“So,” Jimmy finally spoke. “Why were you avoiding me all day?”

Thomas’s eyebrows raised but he continued to read his paper, or at least he pretended to. “I didn’t ignore you. You know how busy I was.”

Jimmy gave him a sceptic look and rocked onto the back legs of his chair as he held onto the edge of the table for balance. He hoped that he looked rather daring doing this because his friend looked very casual in his chair – not that he was trying to impress the other man at all.

Thomas quickly looked up at the footman and rolled his eyes when he saw Jimmy’s face. “I was busy, that’s all. I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“You didn’t talk to me at any point earlier today, except when I pointed out that you have a cold. You sneezed just before.” Jimmy insisted, still rocking on his chairs back legs.

Thomas scoffed. “I did but that was because it’s dusty in here.”

“No it isn’t.” Jimmy smirked. “You’re being a stubborn mule, Mr Barrow.”

Thomas ran his tongue across his teeth and chose to ignore the other man’s comment as he returned his attention to his newspaper. He also ignored Jimmy’s snort, even when his friend stretched his leg out to nudge Thomas’s foot.

“You’re being childish, you know.” Jimmy stated.

“Well you would know all about being childish.” Thomas snapped. He immediately regretted this as he knew that he was being ridiculous but he couldn’t help himself.

Jimmy let his chair fall forward with a thud, returning the chair and himself into an upright position. He fixed Thomas with a very cold look and crossed his arms in irritation. “You’re in a right fettle, aren’t you? Is this because of last night? We fell asleep next to each other, so what? I’m not bothered about it so what are you being difficult for? You’re such a moody git.”

Thomas’s head snapped up and he threw his paper down onto his legs. “Well then that’s fine. I was worried at first that you would be uncomfortable but as you said, you’re fine so it’s all fine.”

Jimmy looked confused as he sighed inwardly, considering Thomas’s words. The man was no longer worried about Jimmy being concerned or disgusted over their accidental sleep arrangement. He’s been told by Jimmy directly that there’s nothing to worry about. What on earth was the matter with him then?

“Right...so what’s wrong then? You’ve got a pet lip over something.” Jimmy huffed. “Are you alright? Should I _not_ have told Mrs Hughes that you’re not coming down with a cold?”

“I do not have a cold! I’m just...a bit sniffly. It’s not exactly a cold.” Thomas huffed. “Also, I don’t have a pet lip!”

Jimmy sniggered. “Do I need to a hold a mirror up to your face? You look like a bairn who’s had their sweets swiped.”

Thomas pouted more but tried to straighten his expression into a more mature frown as Jimmy laughed at him. The under butler was clearly bristled and furiously buried his face into his newspaper again so that he could not see the other man shaking his head at him in amusement.

“Come on,” Jimmy coaxed. “You’re being daft. Just tell me what’s wrong for god’s sake. I feel like I’m arguing with my wife.”

Thomas flung his paper down again and glared at Jimmy. “I’m not like a bloody _wife_ , I’m –“

“Sorry, sore spot. I'm sorry, I was only kidding you.” Jimmy smiled apologetically. “You're still being daft though. Something is wrong –“

“I’m fine.” Thomas interrupted with a haughty frown.

Jimmy closed his eyes for a second to pray for patience. “You’re not fine because you’re being an arse. For the last time, what on earth is wrong?”

Thomas simply pursed his lips and folded his arms with a sigh. After a minute passed, he finally uttered “fine.”

Jimmy just stared at Thomas. He just sat and he waited expectantly. If he didn’t have as much patience, he would have given his friend a hard push and sent that bloody rocking chair backwards. He had no idea what on god’s green earth had Thomas in such a fettle but he just decided to wait patiently.

“It’s not a joke, you know.” Thomas said quietly. He looked more melancholy than haughty now but he was tapping his foot repeatedly against the floor.

Jimmy took a quick breathe and sighed, “What’s not a joke?”

Thomas looked to his right and fixated on the opposite wall. “Me. Me liking men.”

The footman’s expression remained blank as he had no idea what Thomas meant. The under butler suddenly looked back at him with a stern expression that could rival the Dowager’s. In any other moment, Jimmy would have teased Thomas over the likeness but he wisely decided that now was not an appropriate time for a joke. When he didn’t immediately answer Thomas, the under butler became visibly frustrated and glared at Jimmy.

“You kissed me and then laughed. It’s not funny, Jimmy. You know...you know that I once almost –“

Jimmy’s eyes became the size of plates. “That’s why you’re annoyed! Are you joking?”

Thomas’s expression faltered and his mouth formed a shocked ‘o’ shape. “What do you mean are you joking? I’m not! I almost got thrown out into the streets. What if Carson or anyone had walked in? It would have been me who ended up in prison for it. It would have been me who lost my job!”

Jimmy was in shock. He was in complete and utter shock. “For fucks sake, it was just a kiss, Thomas. It was light-hearted and silly. You laughed about it too!” He couldn’t keep a smile off his face but it formed due to shock, not direct humour.

That was a mistake as Thomas’s face became stony. “You really don’t know, do you? How other people feel? Isn’t that what you kept saying about Ivy? She was upset because you overstepped your mark and tried to use her for your own pleasure. Now you’re making a mockery of me, of my life and my feelings!”

Jimmy shook his head and glared back at Thomas. “You’re over dramatising this. Ivy, I have accepted, was wrong of me. Me and you were just kidding around. I’m sorry that you are scared that we could have gotten caught but come on, nobody else was up. We weren’t bloody locking lips in the bloody corridor in broad daylight, were we? I apologise, I’m sorry. You are overacting though, Thomas.”

Thomas began to shake with fury as he stared daggers at Jimmy. “ _I am not overacting!_ I’m not a bloody irrational woman, Jimmy or your damn _wife_!”

“I’m not saying that you are.” snapped Jimmy.

“Well I feel like you’ve implied it.” Thomas hissed. “I’m going to bed.”

“Now wait,” Jimmy started, standing up as Thomas began to walk towards the door. He reached out to pull the under butler’s arm towards him. “Look Thomas, I’m sorry. Sit back down so we can talk about it. I said that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I don’t want to talk at the moment.” Thomas said, yanking his arm away from Jimmy’s grasp. “I want to go to bed. I can’t talk about this right now.”

Jimmy let go of Thomas and calmly held his hands up. “Alright, I get it. Like I said, I’m sorry.”

“Well you don’t get it, you never will but thanks.” Thomas muttered.

Jimmy watched Thomas walk out of the room, closing the door behind him. He couldn’t believe it. Jimmy could not believe that Thomas had been so...so _snappish_ with him. Of course he knew that anything regarding Thomas’s sexuality would always be something of a sore spot but for crying out loud, Jimmy had only given him one quick bloody kiss. He wasn’t trying to get Thomas into bed like Ivy. Why the fuck would he ever do that?

He slumped down into Thomas’s rocking chair and crossed his arms. The under butler had completely overacted. He was normally so calm, even when he was angry. He could be petty and childish but he only ever lost his temper on rare occasions. Normally he would just give someone a sharp insult whilst he stared at them coldly, like he does with Mr Bates. Thomas rarely ever acted so...so much like _a_ _bloody theatrical lavender!_

Once the thought escaped him, Jimmy felt his face flush. That was a terrible thing to think, he knew it. That wasn’t a fair comment to make and he wondered if he had truly meant it. Did he? Did he truly think that Thomas behaving _somewhat feminine?_ Was that fair?

His mind’s eye suddenly remembered the beautiful ‘female Thomas’ that he once created; the tall, willowy girl with the long dark hair. If only she truly existed. His lips had felt lovely pressed against Thomas’s. Perhaps hers would feel even fuller, even softer. Did women have softer lips? Thomas’s lips were softer than a lot of other women’s that he had kissed, although as the skin reached closer to his mouth, the skin became slightly harder, likely due to the amount of cigarettes Thomas smokes. He still liked it. The man had a good pair of lips. They were so red, naturally. They were pretty.

Did those American lawyers think that he had nice lips too? Did the steward? Thomas said that the steward bloke had followed him to his room so he must have given a thought to his mouth. Maybe he also liked how pale Thomas’s skin was and how smooth it is to touch. Jimmy wondered if the under butler had a smooth, soft back? Jimmy loved tracing his hands down a woman’s back. Thomas had a very straight back due to his excellent posture so the expanse of ivory, soft skin must be lovely, especially if he was lying on his front. It must be nice to hold the small of his back too, just above his hips. Perhaps the steward had and the American lawyer. Thomas could have been on his front for them, lying on a bed or bent over, pressed against a wall or a table. He could have been on top, riding the two men as they traced their hands up and down his spine, causing Thomas to moan softly, his head thrown back as he pushed against his partner’s shoulder for support.

All of this queer sex couldn’t be too different. Jimmy could even picture a fantasy Thomas now straddling Jimmy on the rocking chair. He may be bigger than Jimmy but he would be easy enough to support, especially since Thomas could push himself on and off Jimmy’s cock. It must feel good. Thomas must look good doing it – buggering that is. Jimmy could picture fantasy Thomas looking wild and feverish as he gripped Jimmy’s shoulders tightly, crying out softly and biting his lip as Jimmy thrust his hips into a tight, hot channel. God, men have got to be tight, they just have to be. They can’t stretch like women can; they aren’t going to pushing babies out of their arses. He knows that queers need oil or something used before a guy can put his prick in a bloke. Perhaps from fantasy Thomas’s position, his arse could be clenched as he would need to put a lot of weight onto his legs to balance himself whilst Jimmy would push into him from below, gripping Thomas’s narrow waist for leverage. They would probably look good together, especially since they contrasted each other. Thomas being all pale whilst Jimmy was golden and tanned. Thomas would love it, he would. Maybe he’s thought about this. Maybe when he kissed Jimmy that night, Thomas wanted _this_ , a good buggering. Perhaps he had wanted to Jimmy to him butler over, rip his pyjamas off him and fuck him against the bed frame. He must have wanted it; he’s a bloody lavender for heaven’s sake.

His thoughts bounced back to fantasy Thomas straddling his knees as the rocking chair rolled them backwards and forwards as Thomas bobbed himself up and down on Jimmy’s cock. It must feel good, it had to: fucking a man. It must feel good shagging on a rocking chair too. Only a wild woman would do it, someone like Jenny or a whore. Ivy wouldn’t, she was too straight laced for any real fun. Thomas would be used to the darker sides of sex. He’s a man, he can take it. He could take harder thrusts and handle being fucked on a chair. He would take a hard cock up his arse so well. He could take it down his throat just as good, Jimmy had already discovered that…well at least fantasy Thomas could.

Jimmy realised that he had been subconsciously touching himself throughout this entire erotic fantasy and that his prick was indeed _very_ hard as his release wept onto his hand. He could imagine his tight grip being Thomas’s undoubtedly tight arse.

 _‘You’re imagining yourself fucking the under butler’,_ a voice in Jimmy’s head spat yet he couldn’t stop fisting himself, he was too far gone. Fantasy Thomas was gripping his shoulders so tightly Jimmy knew that he would have bruises...imaginary bruises. The man’s head was thrown back and he was nearly sobbing as he begged for Jimmy to touch him, to allow Thomas to let go. He’d also cry for Jimmy to fill him, to fuck him harder for the last few moments. He would need it. Thomas. He would need it so desperately because he clearly loved Jimmy so much.

_‘You’re imagining yourself fucking a man!’_

A million thoughts were whirling around his head, wrapping themselves around his homoerotic fantasy but Jimmy could not focus on them yet as he was so close, _so close_. He could see himself gripping Thomas’s hips so hard that he would likely hurt the other man slightly as he snapped his hips upwards to thrust deeply into Thomas. It wasn’t enough, he felt as though he couldn’t control himself as well. He suddenly pulled himself forward on the rocking chair, tipping it forward so that he could slip Thomas onto the floor where he could throw the startled under butler’s legs over his shoulders and now, _now_ Jimmy could really pound into the man. Thomas was wailing beneath him, his hands scratching at Jimmy’s arms, his chest, desperately trying to pull him closer. Jimmy would pull Thomas’s hips up higher, almost bend Thomas’s knees into his shoulders and give him just a few deeper thrusts.

“Harder!” Thomas cried, glaring up at Jimmy with blown out pupils.

_‘You’re not a queer, what are you doing?’_

“Fuck Jimmy, harder! I’m a man, I can take it.”

Sweat was pouring down both of their bodies and they were exhausted, especially Jimmy but he could do it, he could give Thomas more.

_‘You’re not a fucking queer! You’re just imagining how it would be because you’re curious. You’re just curious.’_

Thomas could definitely take it. He dug his nails into Jimmy’s biceps and tried his best to raise his hips in time with Jimmy’s brutal rhythm. It was almost like a strange, animalistic dance between them and the sounds that echoed around the room created a sensual beat. The crescendo was overwhelming when Jimmy increased his pace.

“Come on, take it!” he spat, as he thrust deeply into ‘Thomas’.

 

* * *

 

“Where the hell is he?” Thomas whispered to himself.

The under butler was currently lying in his cot, tucked up in his blankets. He had been _furious_ with Jimmy, absolutely furious that the footman could not seem to understand that Thomas’s sexuality was far more than just a sore spot, it was _illegal_. Thomas’s feelings for Jimmy were not something that the footman could toy with or make a joke out of. He couldn’t allow himself to be strung along…even though Jimmy’s kiss had been perfect, regardless how silly and fleeting it had been. It was a kiss that meant nothing. Thomas meant nothing to him, he was simply a friend. Friends didn’t kiss their friends, not when someone was aware of the serious implications a silly kiss could have on another person. Had Jimmy and Alfred kissed for a laugh and gotten caught, Carson would have been furious and horrified but they would have been punished within the abbey and severely scolded. They may lose their jobs but that would be all. Carson would relieve the two men of their duties for reasons he would create, not because of a kiss. Had the butler walked in and saw Jimmy kissing Thomas, he would have likely thrown Thomas out there and then and called the police. The Crawley family would not be given an excuse as to why their under butler was fired. They would be told that Thomas was a homosexual who can’t control himself around a handsome young man. He was be outed as a heathen, a disgusting leech who prowled on young men. The police would also know what he was. The staff would be informed. Jimmy would receive sympathy. O’Brien, had she still been here, would have made sure the entire bloody village knew. He would be finished.

He would end up doing some shitty, painful labour work or he would be a whore. A fucking catamite. He’d probably catch a disease and die before the year was out. His dirt body would be buried in an unmarked grave or thrown into a river. Nobody would care about the death of a whore. He knew this, the knowledge made his eyes water and he felt nauseous.

 _‘Where the hell is Jimmy though?’_ he thought to himself.

He was lying wide awake. He would have surely heard the other man sneaking into his room. He hadn’t heard a single peep from anyone.

“What are you doing?” Thomas whispered.

Curiosity (and concern, although he didn’t want to admit this to himself when he was so frustrated with the man) roused Thomas from his bed. He carefully slipped out of his room and quietly made his way downstairs, stopping every so often when he thought he heard a strange noise.

Once he had reached the bottom of the servant’s staircase, Thomas saw that the servant’s hall was still lit which meant that Jimmy must still be in there. He edged closer towards the room in case the footman had fallen asleep as Thomas didn’t want to wake him. If he was asleep then he could stay down here and wake up stiff because he bloody deserved it tonight.

Suddenly he heard a moan. Thomas stopped dead in his tracks as he angled his head to the right, trying to hear clearer what was going on in the room. He was about half a metre away from the door frame but he couldn’t Jimmy from where he was standing. He could hear a strange, light tapping sound…but the noise didn’t sound like pipe work or a branch gently rapping against a window. He heard a loud intake of breathe, another guttural moan and –

“Oh fuck,” Thomas whispered.

The penny had dropped.

He couldn’t keep a shocked grin of disbelief from forming on his face. He couldn’t believe it.

“You’re not.” He breathed before he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“ _Oh fuck, I’m so close!”_ Jimmy suddenly choked out from inside the other room.

Thomas had to throw both of his hands over his mouth to stop himself from bursting into laughter. He knew that he shouldn’t but in order for him to achieve excellent blackmail material tomorrow, Thomas had to poke his head around the door frame to see the other man. He tip-toed closed, braced himself and quickly looked round to see Jimmy leaning back in the rocking chair, red faced as he furiously pleasured himself.

“I’m so – so fucking - _ahh_!” Jimmy cried loudly.

Thomas immediately turned and sprinted towards the staircase, almost tripping over and skidding down the corridor in his efforts. He hurried up the stairs and flew along the attic corridor into his little bedroom where he had to throw his face into his cushion to muffle his giggles. He lay there, almost suffocating, for about five minutes before he had controlled his hysterical laughing fit enough to roll onto his back. His eyes were streaming and he knew his face was red. One part of him wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die as he was so embarrassed! The other part of him wanted to go back down and give Jimmy a hard whack for being so bloody stupid! Carson, Mrs Hughes or anyone could have walked into that room!

“You bloody idiotic, Kent!” Thomas whispered, trying not to laugh again. “You bloody idiot.”

He gave himself another minute or so to stare and ceiling and process the fact that he just witnessed his complete and utter dunce of a friend getting himself off downstairs in the servant’s hall. He had looked like a bloody idiotic.

 _‘He must be thinking of that lass from York or maybe he misses his old lady lover,’_ he thought to himself in amusement as he closed his eyes. ‘ _They’re lucky._ ’

He may currently be angry with Jimmy and he may find the young footman frustrating but he also knew that no matter what happens between them there would always be a part of Thomas that would wish that one day it would be him who could excite Jimmy so into such a frenzy. A part of him would also secretly hope that he could turn the footman’s head and that one day, Jimmy would kiss him because he wanted to, not because he found the idea ‘funny’.

If only poor Thomas had not dashed off so quickly. If only Thomas had stood still for a second longer outside of the door. If he had stayed, even for just a second longer, he would have heard Jimmy collapse backwards into the chair, completely devoid of all energy, utterly spent, whispering one name and one name only: _Thomas_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment, critique and complain about how mucj Jimmy needs to learn.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	9. Silly Little Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edna has arrived ladies and gentlemena and she seems particuarly interested in Mr Barrow.  
> Meanwhile, Thomas and Jimmy are the same idiots that they always are, only this time they have opened a gap between each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for our boys to act like fools. You have been warned.
> 
> JUST SO YOU KNOW:
> 
> I am going to take this story wherever it needs to go, therefore I am absolutely NOT going to write in comeplete tandem with Downton Abbey's actual plot lines. This is a fanfiction and I'm finally comfortable with that.  
> No dramatic changes will be made to the overall plot of Downton Abbey, except for the fact that Jimmy and Thomas are destined to fall in love.

Grey was the colour of the day for Thomas Barrow. The dark, heavy clouds that hung over Downton cast a grim shadow over the Yorkshire countryside and Thomas felt a strange sense of foreboding as he stared up at the depressing sky. The smoke that surrounded him was grey, his mood felt ‘grey’ and everyone else at Downton seemed to be grey. Thomas hadn’t felt this depressed since he was almost thrown out. For some reason, Jimmy had been avoiding him for the past few days and Thomas wondered if his friend’s sudden change of mood was brought about by their confrontation after the drunken kiss he received from the footman. He couldn’t believe how childish Jimmy was acting, ignoring him just because Thomas stood up to home about a couple of home truths. The illegality of Thomas’s sexual inclinations and his feelings for Jimmy were not a game or something trivial; they were serious. After their deep conversations and the nights when Thomas had poured his heart out to his alleged _friend_ , he had hoped that Jimmy would have understood and given him a genuine apology. Of course he wasn’t angry with Jimmy for kissing him, no. Jimmy had been drunk, feeling very stupid and had given him a daft kiss which meant nothing. Well, it was far from nothing to Thomas but he could not allow himself to dwell on his unrequited feelings and silly daydreams. Jimmy’s behaviour after the kiss was what caused offence. Thomas knew that the young footman was selfish and arrogant but he had finally crossed a line. It was possible Thomas had allowed his ridiculous affection for the young man to cloud his better judgement. Perhaps was no hope for James Kent and maybe there never will be. Perhaps the man was destined to wander through life being vain, cold and self absorbed.

“Mr Barrow, Mr Carson would like to speak to you in his office.” Mosley suddenly called out from behind him.

Thomas closed his eyes for a moment to contain his frustration before he called back, “thank you, Mr Mosley.”

He heard the valet’s footsteps walking away and he took the opportunity to sigh deeply, flicking his cigarette to the ground where he could snub it out with his foot. He felt as downtrodden as the remains of his cigarette on the dirty, well floor and he somehow found that comforting. He felt shit. The day was shit. Everyone else seemed to fell shit. Let the day be shit.

Whilst Thomas made his way to Carson’s office, Jimmy was sulking in the main reception room upstairs. He was experiencing a rare moment that all servants felt from time to time; a moment where he felt glad to be a servant. He felt exhausted, both mentally and physically so he found it easy to carry out his duties without much thought. Repetition and instruction were always easy when one’s mind felt numb and they helped the day pass quicker for him. The underlying guilt that was churning in the base of his stomach was not easy to ignore but he tried his hardest to take his mind of _everything,_ from Ivy to Thomas, as he tidied the room. It was childish of him and it was petty but he was now the one avoiding the under butler. Thomas had kept out of his way when he was annoyed so why can’t Jimmy do the same? Of course, Thomas had a justifiable reason but now was not the time for technicalities. Jimmy blamed Thomas. He blamed Thomas for all the stupid thoughts, questions and _disgusting_ fantasies that he had been distracted by recently. For god’s sake, no sane womanising man got himself off to fantasy where he best friend straddled him naked on a chair and fucked himself on Jimmy’s cock. It wasn’t right – it was not natural. Jimmy wasn’t like Thomas. He wasn’t like any damn queer! They were just friends. Jimmy had kissed the under butler for Christ sake and that couldn’t happen again, regardless of how drunk Jimmy was and how he was trying to teasing. He must be spending too much time talking with Thomas about all that queer nonsense and it was clearly making him confused. Jimmy was not having as much sex as he would like so being around a man who was equally starved of intimate affection was addling his brain with too many curious thoughts. He needed to talk to Thomas about simple things like the weather or how much of a ninny Alfred was when he was pining over Ivy. He needed to play cards with Thomas and learn from the under butler so that one day, Jimmy would move up the ranks too. They couldn’t have any more of those late night heart-to-hearts and certainly no more drinking at ridiculous hours. Two men talk to each other around a table or in a pub, not curled next to each other on bed. He could admit that Thomas was handsome and graceful and had very appealing to features but that didn’t mean that he truly wanted the other man pleasuring him or riding on his cock, no. That was absurd.

As the day slowly passed, Thomas and Jimmy continued to skirt around each other. Jimmy initiated contact again by stopping to have a brief chat with Thomas over the debates journalists were having over the country’s political parties and their predictions for the future general election that was coming up. Their conversations throughout the rest of the day were polite, concise and incredibly dull but Jimmy felt comfortable with the distance he was opening between him and the under butler.

“ _We can still be mates_ ,” Jimmy mused. “ _We just need space_.”

 

* * *

 

A week later, Downton’s servants were finishing their early breakfast around the staff table when suddenly Mr Carson stood from his chair. He quickly raised his hand to indicate for the others to remain seated before he cleared his throat.

“Today we have a new member of staff joining us. Her name is Edna Braithwaite and she will undertake a general maid’s position here at Downton. You all know how busy you are today so please carry on with your work. I have assigned Mrs Hughes and Anna to help our new maid settle in so I don’t want to see the rest of you dallying at any time. Am I clear?”

As the servants answered the butler and gave the man a nod, Jimmy could have sworn that Carson’s sharp gaze lingered on his face for a fraction longer than anyone else. He felt rather affronted and his distaste must have been clearly visible on his face for Thomas and Mr Bates threw Jimmy knowing smirks. The footman shovelled his final spoonful of porridge into his mouth and tried not to look as though he had been personally insulted as he didn’t want to be pulled aside by Carson. As the bodies in the room slowly filtered out into the hallway to begin their day, Jimmy hurried after Thomas.

“Did you see Carson giving me a slightly longer look?” He huffed, keeping himself close to Thomas’s shoulder.

The under butler gave him a sideways look and shrugged his shoulders. “He likely doesn’t want another Ivy fiasco.”

Jimmy felt utterly insulted. “There was no _fiasco!_ For crying out loud, I swear that I told you before that he doesn’t like me!” he hissed angrily. “He even likes you better than me!”

Thomas snorted, pausing before he ascended the stairs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I would wipe that frown off your face sharpish, James.” Mr Bates said snidely as he smirked at the footman again. “Excuse me, Mr Barrow.”

Thomas moved to the side to allow the valet access to the stairs whilst he watched Jimmy’s expression turn stony. He leant against the banister and gave a confused looking Anna a quick, cold smile as she too moved past him to climb the stairs.

“ _Honestly!_ ” spat Jimmy. “I can see why you can’t stand Bates. He doesn’t like me either.”

“I don’t dislike him, per say.” Thomas said softly, shrugging. “I told you, it’s complicated between us. Now are you going to get on with your job now, Mr Kent? You’re dallying.”

“Well so are you.” Jimmy snapped, pushing past Thomas.

Thomas watched the footman stomp up the stairs before he faced forwards again, finding Mrs Patmore staring at him with a bemused expression. The pair looked at each other for a second longer before they both broke into a sneer, silently laughing at Jimmy’s petulant behaviour. He gave the cook one last smirk before he rushed up the stairs to attend to his duties. Just as Thomas was passing the upstairs corridor, he heard Anna and Lady Grantham whispering together.

“Oh please, _please_ let me go to London! I will be chaperoned by my friend Charlotte Morgan. She’s very sensible, I promise.” Lady Rose pleaded with Lady Grantham with large, excited eyes.

Cora took pity on the girl and offered her a sympathetic smile. “Oh Rose, I’m sorry but we’re responsible for you. Heavens, if we ever lost you in London!”

The two women continued to twitter away as Thomas quietly brushed past them, giving the two ladies a polite nod as he passed. Thomas liked Lady Rose to an extent, he truly did but she was one of the most superficial cotton head’s that he had ever met. At least she was harmless. In his peripheral vision he spotted a sudden movement to his left. He quickly shot his head in the direction of the blur his sight caught to find that it was only Anna giving the new maid a tour of Downton. He slowed his pace so that he could keep an eye on the two women when suddenly the new arrival shot Thomas a glance, surprising the butler. Their stares could only be held for a brief second as the new maid had to follow Anna.

“I think you’ll be a one to watch.” Thomas whispered to himself as he watched the two women hurrying away. “You’re a sharp one.”

Hours passed and once again, Thomas and Jimmy sat playing cards with Alfred. The two footmen chatted but Thomas remained silent as he carefully watched the new maid, Edna, out of the corner of his eye. Something told him that the young woman was potentially going to be a trouble maker, be it her sharp features or the glint in her cold eyes that reminded Thomas of his younger self. Placing one of his cards down and ignoring Alfred’s grumble, he watched Edna suddenly look at him from where she was sitting chatting to Anna and Mrs Hughes. That second look shared between the under butler and the new maid set off something of a spark within them, an understanding of sorts. Equally, the pair wondered, ‘ _am I gaining an ally or a foe?_ ’

Thomas returned his full attention to his card game and put Edna from his mind. The maid, however, was far too interested in the under butler to concentrate on Anna’s polite questions.

“Who is the dark haired man?” Edna quickly asked the housekeep and ladies maid that were sat in front of her.

Anna’s eyebrows raised and the housekeeper sighed before she answered, “that’s Mr Barrow, the under butler –“

“ _Under butler?_ ” Edna queried, clearly confused. She had never heard of that position before.

Mrs Hughes frowned slightly. “Well it is a position that Mr Carson created for him. He’s got a sharp eye and Mr Carson has trained him well so mind that you’re never dawdling.” Silently the housekeep prayed to the Lord that they wouldn’t have another ‘Daisy’ problem on their hands before she added, “if he’s ever unnecessarily sharp with you though, come straight to me.”

Anna quickly glanced at Mr Barrow. “He mostly keeps himself to himself. The two footmen he is playing cards with is James, or Jimmy, and the red headed man is Alfred.”

Edna nodded slowly and gave Mr Barrow another look. “He seems to be keeping an eye on my already. He’s very cold, isn’t he? He’s young for a butler as well.”

Mrs Hughes’s mouth opened for a second but she quickly closed it. She really did not need another young woman fawning over Thomas again – oh, it was always a hard task to try and delicately explain why Mr Barrow would never give her the time of day.

“Mr Barrow is very capable and efficient, regardless of his age. Keep your head down and you won’t have any problems.”

Mrs Hughes and Anna changed their conversation subject back to questions about Edna’s past but the new maid only answered them half-heartedly. She knew the moment that the under butler had given her a cold stare in the corridor that he was as intrigued with her as she with him. He had an aloof, intelligent look about it and she could sense that the man had a layer of steel within him. Perhaps if she could befriend the under butler, or at least form an alliance with him, she might be able to climb the career ladder quicker.

Across the room, Jimmy spotted Edna giving Thomas a strange look. She turned away and answered a question from Anna but Jimmy considered her for a moment longer. He glanced at Thomas and found the under butler staring intently at his cards. He then looked at Alfred who appeared to be very bored but that was likely because he was currently losing the game.

“Mr Barrow,” Jimmy said quietly. “That new maid just gave you a funny look.”

Thomas looked up, supremely unconcerned whilst Alfred leant closer to the two men. He gently laid his cards face down on the table.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Jimmy shrugged. “She just gave him a funny look.”

Alfred smirked at Thomas. “You might have an admirer, Mr Barrow. It’s a shame you won’t like her.”

Thomas kept his face blank and just gave Alfred a quick smile before he placed his selected card down onto the pile in the centre of their game. He had seen a look like the one Edna had given before and he knew that the young woman wasn’t attracted to him, she had simply tried to weigh up the under butler to access whether he was helpful or a threat, possibly coming to the conclusion that he was both, just as he had done for her. She had a strange air about her, an air that made Thomas believe she was untrustworthy, ambitious and cunning, just like he had been. Oh yes, Thomas had met people like her before, he just needed to look in the mirror. Thomas also had to swallow his pride whenever Alfred hinted towards his preference for male company. It was one thing to hear Jimmy mention Thomas’s sexuality and discuss it with him, but Alfred was another matter. He could never snap at the footman because Alfred had not said anything insulting, not since the night he had found Thomas in Jimmy’s room. He also couldn’t return any quips or initiate banter because he wasn’t comfortable with that thought, not with Alfred. He always remained silent and gave a nod or a smirk in return; both of which were always forced.

Soon only Jimmy, Alfred and Thomas remained in the servant’s hall. They had begun a final round of poker and all three were too stubborn to end their game, even when Mr Carson shot a frown in their direction. After half an hour of competitive cheating, Alfred won his first game of the night and chuckled away to himself as he took his winnings, a chocolate bar, to his room. Jimmy rolled his eyes as he left and Thomas smirked, shaking his head at the ginger haired man’s foolishness.

“He does realise that we let him win, doesn’t he?” Jimmy scoffed.

Thomas gave Jimmy a look. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m not!” Jimmy denied. “I’m just saying that he’s an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot.” Thomas quipped as he shuffled their cards into a tidy pile, ignoring Jimmy kicking his ankle under the table.

The footman leant closer to Thomas so that they were directly side by side. Jimmy was certain that the new maid had given Thomas a look of interest but he did not think that she had passed a glance in his direction.

“That maid definitely looked at you, you know.” Jimmy nodded.

“It’s not what you think.” Thomas replied in a bored tone. “I also reckon that you’re a little bit put out that you haven’t received any particular attention?”

Jimmy tutted and fiercely shook his head, sending his curls bouncing wildly. “I do not! She gave you such an odd look. Do you know her?”

“No,” Thomas said softly. “I knew from the moment I saw her that she’s a slippery character and I think she’s figured out that I’m the same, you see. I can see something of myself in her – a younger me from when I was a footman. I can tell that she’s the ambitious type and she’s got shifty eyes, Jimmy. She’s a schemer.”

“You see everyone in you, you do.” Jimmy chuckled, leaning back in his seat lazily.

Thomas gave him half a smirk and resisted an eye roll. “Well I don’t see myself in Alfred or Mrs Patmore.”

He received a ‘shut up, you mouthy bastard’ pretend glare from Jimmy, which made him laugh as he reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Jimmy started to recall an incident that he at witnessed in the village a couple of days ago where two farmers had the audacity to begin a brawl outside of the grocer’s. The grocer’s daughter had been too busy flirting with Jimmy to notice that the two fighting men had knocked over some produce. He rattled on and Thomas listened with an amused ear, finding that his previous feelings of anger and frustration towards Jimmy were slipping away. He watched the younger man talk, admiring how his full, pink lips moved. He watched Jimmy’s eyes light with excitement as he described how he managed to help break up the fight. The footman’s gold tinted skin looked so smooth around his jaw, so enticing and Thomas had to mentally slap himself before he envision himself crawling on Jimmy’s lap to lick along the man’s collar bones, trailing slowly towards his neck where he could –

Jimmy suddenly nudged Thomas. “Are you falling asleep? My story is about one of the most exciting events to occur in this whole bloody village and you’re falling asleep?” he laughed.

Thomas blinked, hard to clear his mind of _dangerous thoughts_ and raised his left hand to rub at his eyes. A few stray hairs fell onto his forehead and he flinched when he felt someone brushing them away from his eyes. He opened his eyes to see Jimmy retracting his arm backwards, smiling gently at Thomas.

“Sorry, those hairs were just going to irk me. Actually, what does your hair look like without pomade in it?” Jimmy asked quietly. He couldn’t picture Thomas’s hair without its usual shine. Even when Thomas had crept into Jimmy’s room that night, the under butler’s hair was still very sleek.

Thomas chuckled quickly and ran a hand through his hair. “Erm…my hair is actually very dry and I’ve got a lot of it. I’ve got straight hair so if I didn’t smooth it down, it would either stick up all over the shop and look daft or I’d have to grow it longer, which Carson would highly disapprove of. I don’t fancy being the lavender with the long hair either.”

Jimmy laughed at that. “I imagined as much.”

“You’re lucky you’ve got your curls.” Thomas said fondly.

Jimmy sniggered and gave his head a dramatic shake. “I’ve always been complimented on my golden locks.”

Thomas was unimpressed by the footman’s theatrics but he couldn’t help smiling gently. “I bet you have. You know, you’re almost like Pinocchio except instead of your nose growing when you tell lies, your head gets bigger when you receive compliments.”

“Oh ha ha, Mr Barrow.” Jimmy tutted, crossing his arms.

Before Thomas could retort, a sudden small creak altered the two men and they froze, staring around until both their gazes turned to the doorway. A sudden patter of light footsteps seemed could be heard from the hallway and Jimmy moved to stand, however he remained seated as the footsteps disappeared. However it was would be too far ahead now. Thomas and Jimmy both turned to face each other with a matching expression of bemusement. Normally they were never disturbed at this time of the night.

“Perhaps it was Daisy or Ivy in the kitchen? They might have forgotten something.” Thomas wondered out loud.

“Most likely,” Jimmy replied, “Mrs Patmore can’t move that quick!”

The two men sniggered and Thomas suddenly registered a weight pressing against his thigh, close to his knee – Jimmy’s hand. The footman must have placed it there when he jolted forward. His friend was not moving his hand.

“Still a bit funny though.” Jimmy mumbled, leaning to the right to try and see further past the door frame.

Thomas couldn’t answer him, he could only swallow as he tried not to lapse into a tizzy over the footman’s hand that was still pressed against his thigh. His touch felt too hot, just as John’s had done aboard the ship. Jimmy Kent was touching his leg. ‘ _Oh my_ ,’ he thought as he forced his lungs to control its breathing rate – slowly, slow breathes, intake deeply and quietly.

“Do you think it was that new maid? You said she looked shifty!” Jimmy whispered before he yawned. “Oh blooming’ heck! That shows how knackered I am. I’m off to bed. Goodnight.” Without thinking, Jimmy gave Thomas’s thigh a squeeze as he stood from his chair.

Thomas breath hitched but thankfully Jimmy’s knees clicked at the exact same moment so his gasp not heard by the footman. He watched Jimmy with wide eyes as the other man bent down to rub his knees.

“Did you hear my knees click just then? Crickey, I need to do some leg stretches or something! See you tomorrow, Thomas.” Jimmy smiled before he walked around the table to leave.

“Night.” Thomas replied quietly.

The under butler’s thigh still burned as though his skin had been scalded.

 

The next morning, Thomas was handed an envelope by Mrs Hughes. The handwriting on the front of the letter was unfamiliar however the sender’s penmanship was fairly neat and quite small. He only received post on a very rare occasion so to have a small paper square placed into his hands was strange. He was conscious that Carson, Mrs Hughes and Mr Bates were eyeing him suspiciously but he kept his eyes focused on the letter, trying to guess who was writing to him. To his left, Daisy bustled past him carrying a teapot and spotted the letter in his hands.

“Have you received a letter, Mr Barrow?” She asked him pleasantly.

Thomas never found that he was ever in the best of moods after waking up so he couldn’t find the energy to be particularly polite to the young girl. “No Daisy, I just enjoy holding other people’s letters for them. Of course I’ve received a letter.”

“Now Mr Barrow, there’s no need to snap.” Mrs Hughes warned him with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry Daisy, I suppose I’m tired this morning.” Thomas apologised reluctantly whilst thinking to himself “ _if you didn’t ask such stupid questions, you wouldn’t get snapped at_.”

He looked in Jimmy’s direction, expecting to find the footman smirking at him but the younger man was firmly staring at his porridge. Anna was quietly chatting to Mr Mosley, Alfred was speaking to one of the hall boys but Jimmy, who was normally talkative when he was in a good mood, was not including himself in any of the various conversations around the table.  As he was about to turn away, his eye was suddenly caught by Edna who was looking at him strangely. She too currently sitting in silence but she quickly turned away, focusing on something another maid was saying to a hall boy.

“Aren’t you going to open your letter, Mr Barrow?” Mr Bates suddenly asked Thomas. He indicated towards the envelope in the under butler’s hands.

Thomas glanced down and nodded, “yes, I was just about to.”

He carefully ripped open the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of crisp, white paper. He lifted the top of the letter where his eyes caught the name at the bottom, John.

“ _Of course!_ ” Thomas thought to himself, “ _I should have known.”_

 

_Mr Thomas Barrow,_

_I hope you remember me from your voyage to New York. If you can forget a man who spent time with you that easily then you lead a very busy life, young sir._

_I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to finally write you a letter. I’m finally back on land, London to be exact. I will be returning to Liverpool in a week’s time where I will remain for a whole month. I’ve attached my Liverpool address on a separate slip of paper in case you lost it, so check your envelope. Am I being too eager? I hope not. I imagine that you’re picturing me with large puppy eyes and a wagging tale? You have that effect on a man, you know._

_Since I’ll be in Liverpool for a few weeks, would there be any chance of a rendezvous? I would like to see you again, as soon as possible if you’re able. We could meet in a pub for lunch and a chat? I hope you will have a day off soon – oh actually, I could even meet you in York if that would be easier for you?_

_If you are able to meet me then let me know as soon as possible, please. In fact, if you want me to keep in contact with you then include that in your reply also._

_Take care,_

_John Brady, your humble steward._

Had Thomas been alone, he would allowed himself to blush and chuckle. John’s letter was very sweet and his insecurities shone through which was quite endearing as it was a rare thing for a man to be as openly honest as John Brady.  He was happy, _very happy_ to receive the steward’s letter. Of course he wanted to write to John! Yes, he definitely wanted to try to visit John in Liverpool. His heart felt as though it was fluttering in his chest, pumping his blood through his circuits with unnecessary speed; Thomas did not need to feel any more heat.

“ _God, I hope I’m not blushing!_ ”

That night Thomas penned his reply to his far-off friend with a shaky hand. His writing was appalling, utterly ridiculous so he crumpled his letter and threw it in the bin so he could create another.

 

_Dear Mr John Brady,_

_I do remember you, how could I forget? No, my life certainly is not that busy in that area and let me tell you, even if my personal affairs were as exciting, I believe that you would still stand out amongst any of my other acquaintances. You’re a one-off character, Mr Brady._

_I have a full day off work coming up in two weeks time –so next, next Saturday. Would you be available for that date? I’m purposely giving you a small puzzle to solve here. If we can agree on that date, I will confirm my travel arrangements to you and my arrival time._

_Thank you for your letter, I appreciated it._

_Best wishes,_

  1. _Barrow._



_P.s I did not picture you as a puppy at first so you brought that one on yourself, you fool. You make a ridiculous dog, just so you know._

Thomas and John continued to exchange letters over the next week until eventually, the pair had agreed to meet outside of Liverpool station at half past twelelve, sharp. He was once again in his room, this time curled into a human ball as he leant against his bed frame with an unlit cigarette in his hand. Thomas was amazed, he truly was. He had never arranged to meet another man for pleasure – at least not respectful pleasure, friendship. He highly doubted that he John would _copulate_ and in all truth, Thomas wasn’t sure if he would to become intimate with John again. He wanted a friend; an understanding friend who he could fully open up to, whom would fully understand him and his sexuality. Recently Thomas had still kept his distance from Jimmy and it seemed as though the footman was also avoiding him in return. He no longer knew how he felt regarding Jimmy. He was terribly confused and different feelings would wash over him when he was with the footman, which only served to confuse Thomas more. He wanted to be Jimmy’s friend, however he found the younger man very trying sometimes. Sometimes he wished that he could clear the world of all Jimmy Kent’s and move them to a different planet, the furthest planet from earth preferably. Sometimes Thomas couldn’t bear to look at the footman. It hurt him, emotionally and physically to look at his golden skin, the blonde waves and those blue eyes. Sometimes he wanted to drop down to his knees in front of Jimmy so that he could show the other man just how much he cared, how grateful he was that he existed in the same world as the young footman. He would happily pleasure him, worship him and if the great blonde would be ever so kind, perhaps he could allow Thomas to pleasure himself too and –

_Knock knock._

He almost jumped into the air from shock as the person outside his room rapped on his door again.

“Thomas, are you in? It’s Jimmy. Do you want to come down and play cards with me and Alfred?” Jimmy called from outside of the door, knocking again. “Oi, are you sleeping?”

Thomas blinked repeatedly and swallowed. He was able to tell that his cheeks would be tinted pink from embarrassment, although part of him was grateful that his mind was forcibly diverted away from all inappropriate thoughts about the man who stood mere metres away from him.

“Hello?” Jimmy called, knocking again.

“Yeah, I’m here. You can come in.” Thomas managed to choke out before he quickly took a deep breath to steady himself as Jimmy peered around the door.

Jimmy gave the under butler a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, were you busy?”

“No, I was just finishing off a letter.” Thomas lied quickly. He wasn’t actually writing a letter at all for he had no need to. He had written to John only yesterday but writing had become such a habit over the past few days, Thomas immediately used it as his excuse whenever he needed to explain to someone what he was doing.

Jimmy’s eyebrows raised and he pursed his lips for a moment. “Oh, I see. You’ve been writing a lot recently,” he said, closing Thomas’s door. “You’ve barely been around.”

The footman was offended, Thomas could tell; in face he could almost feel it. He could feel the tension in the air rising and he knew that Jimmy had only come to knock on Thomas’s door to interrogate him as to why Jimmy had been receiving less attention as of late. He knew it, Thomas knew it and he had actually been expecting it. A distance had grown between himself and the younger man, yes, but Thomas knew that since then it had nearly always been Jimmy who had initiated a conversation. He wanted it to be that way so he could show the footman that he was not always going to come running to him. Jimmy had pulled away from Thomas, yet he also drew himself towards the butler – hell, he had even placed a hand on his thigh one night and barely even reacted to it. Jimmy wanted everything to be on his terms, never anyone else’s. Thomas could pull away all he wanted so long as the direction he was gearing to was a lonely one. The moment Thomas’s attention turned to someone else, even a bloody letter, Jimmy felt put out.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. You know how busy we all have been.” Thomas replied flatly. Someone needed to be the diplomatic one.

Jimmy nodded twice, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, we’ve all been quite busy. You’re still barely speaking to me though. I know that we’ve both given each other a bit of space for a while, which is fine, but you don’t speak to me anymore, not really.” He had an edge to his voice but on the whole, his tone was quite steady.

Fuck being diplomatic. “Well Jimmy, if you have a problem, any problem at all, why don’t you tell me instead of skirting around and asking questions? What is your point, Kent?”

Jimmy’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ and it took him a few moments to answer the question. “Well Mr Barrow, since we’re being so official here. You took the hump a few weeks ago over nothing, then you were a bit shirty with me for a few days and now you’re not speaking to me at all, not properly.”

“You’ve been shirty and avoided me as well. It’s not just one person here. My attention has been distracted as of late by a friend of mine who has been communicating with me regularly. You don’t like it. As long as I don’t make new friends, you’re fine with avoiding me. You know why I was angry with you, Jimmy! I told you and you didn’t listen, nor did you even try to understand. Me and my life is not a joke. I’m also not _yours_. I can speak to other people if I want to, especially if you’re ignoring me as well.” Thomas snapped coldly.

“Oh come on, you don’t mean that much to me! Honestly, I meant it when I said that you’re like my bloody wife! Well yeah, we both ignored each other – fine. I accept that. _You_ ignored me more!” Jimmy cried, almost shouting at the man opposite him.

Thomas could have slapped him. “I ignored you _more?_ How old are we, Jimmy? Are we children? For god’s sake, keep your voice down as well.”

“Well…maybe we are like children!” snapped Jimmy.

Thomas fixed him with a stern gaze, not unlike an expression often worn by the Dowager. He tilted his head to the left slightly as he continued his staring battle, daring Jimmy to submit first. The two men were furious, furious with each other but after a minute of silence, they both felt silly. Very silly.

“We are behaving like children.” Thomas admitted quietly, breaking the silence.

Jimmy shrugged. “Well, yeah we are. I’m sorry.”

Thomas returned the shrug and shook his head, “I’m sorry as well, we’re both being daft.”

“You do mean a lot to me, Thomas. I’m sorry I said that. That’s an awful thing to say after you intervened at the fair – and because you’re my mate. I’m sorry about when I… _you know_. Well it wasn’t a joke so I’m not for listening to you after.”

It was an eloquent an apology as Thomas going to get. “It's fine – well it is now. Don’t worry about it.”

Jimmy sighed and stretched his arms out to the side. “So…who are you writing to? Everyone thinks you’re writing to your cousin who lives abroad.”

“Do they just.” Thomas said bitterly. The fuck Carson and Bates thought that.

“I know it’s not your cousin. Is it that man who you met in New York?” Jimmy asked with an awkward smile.

“He was a steward on the boat –“ Thomas started, but was soon cut off by Jimmy.

“Ahh, the other man you slept with? You really do get around.” The footman smirked.

Thomas shook his head slowly and folded his arms across his crossed legs. “Fine, yes the man that I slept with,” he stated firmly, “which will _not_ be happening again.”

Jimmy stepped forward and carefully sat down on the edge of the under butler’s bed. “Why are you writing to him then, if you don’t want to see him again?”

“I do want to see him again,” Thomas almost laughed. “Honestly Jimmy, life isn’t about all about sleeping with people!”

Jimmy laughed softly and shifted on the bed to make himself more comfortable. “I know that, thank you. It’s just...well what will you be? Just friends? What if _he_ wants to take _you_ to bed?”

The footman wondered what the steward stranger looked like. Would he be tall with broad shoulders or tall and thin? He could be smaller, like himself. Did the man have dark hair or light coloured hair? What did he think of Thomas? Did he think he was beautiful? Did he love him?

“Well then I’ll tell me that I just want to be his friend.” Thomas answered firmly. “A relationship would be impossible, you know that.”

Jimmy yawned and nodded, “yeah, I suppose. Wait, do you mean because of the law or because he works at sea?”

Thomas leant his head back to rest his head against the frame of his bed. “At bit of everything really.”

Jimmy swallowed and nodded slowly, although Thomas did not see this as he had closed his eyes. The older man’s eyelashes looked lovely fanned out against his cheeks. His red mouth was closed but it looked as lovely as it always did. Thomas’s high cheekbones looked very sharp and angular in the dim evening light, reminding Jimmy of old paintings and marble sculptures. Artists like John William Waterhouse would likely have loved to paint Thomas. His eyes drifted down to the forgotten cigarette that was slowly slipping from Thomas’s long, slim fingers. Jimmy reached across and plucked the cigarette away, accidentally brushing his fingers across the man’s smooth, pale hands. The man’s chest was rising and falling slowly, a sign that Thomas was slowly falling asleep.

“Are you falling asleep?” Jimmy asked quietly, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“Yes. Go away.” Thomas mumbled. “That’s an order from your superior.”

Jimmy scoffed and tapped the tired man’s foot. “Don’t you want to put your pyjamas on?”

“I’ll put my pyjamas on when I put my pyjamas on, Kent. You don’t tell me what to do.” Thomas smirked.

“Right you, Mr Barrow.” Jimmy grinned as he stood from Thomas’s bed.

He gave the under butler one last look before he turned and left the room, closing the door as quietly as he could so that he wouldn’t startle Thomas. Making his way downstairs, Jimmy considered his and Thomas’s brief, very childish argument. They had both been daft, it was true. A friendship needed as much good communication and trust as any romantic relationship, especially when a friendship is as complex as his and Thomas’s. His friend, his one true friend, was a homosexual who may or may not still have underlying romantic or sexual interest in him. He was an ignorant fool who may or may not have fantasised due to curiosity about the said homosexual friend, but he was okay with that. Jimmy still felt like any straight forward, handsome heterosexual; he was just simply able to appreciate the beauty of all people.

“ _That’s all,_ ” he told himself.

From this day onwards, Jimmy Kent had firmly decided that he would harbour no jealous feelings when it came to Thomas Barrow making new friends. They were mates, Jimmy still meant a lot to him. If Thomas wanted to become friends with some man who works on a boat, who will most likely want more than friendship from Thomas, then that was okay. He would support Thomas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy is denial, so much denial.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story.  
> Thank you very much to my loyal readers, especially the lovely people who always leave me a comment. All feedback is greatly appreciated.  
> Thank you for ever kudos, bookmark and every view.  
> I am grateful.


	10. Rules Are Made To Be Broken, As Is A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Barrow's off to York to meet his far-off friend, Mr John Brady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my readers, both familiar and new.  
> Thank you for making it this far.
> 
> Mr Barrow's in Scouse land to meet John and Jimmy's at Downton.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Soft patters of rainfall beat rhythmically against Thomas’s window as the under butler straightened his suit jacket in his mirror. His jacket and trousers were a light, grey-blue which complemented his eyes and contrasted nicely with his ebony hair. It was a smart ensemble that was appropriate for the late summer season, although he would need to try and keep out of the rain unless he wanted to be decorated in wet, dark spots. Admiring his reflection, he had to admit to himself that he looked rather smart. Fair purple circles surrounded his eyes as he was too anxious and excited to sleep soundly during the night, however Thomas felt that he could get away with a ‘pale and interesting’ look. Besides, he had never looked particularly healthy all of his life and he had received a few bizarre compliments for his wan complexion. He supposed that all in all, he would have to do.

_Knock knock._

_Knock._

Thomas recognised the familiar tapping and knew that Jimmy was standing outside of his door.

_Knock knock knock._

“Yes Jimmy, you can come in. Give a man a chance to answer.” Thomas called out before shaking his head.

A chill brushed against his legs as his door was swung open behind him. He could hear the distant sounds of the other servant’s pottering around, as well as footsteps further down the hallway.

“Hello,” Jimmy greeted as he casually strode into Thomas’s room. He shuffled about on his feet and curiously observed the other man adjusting his suit.

“Can I help you?” Thomas asked, looking at Jimmy over his shoulder. “You should have a picture of me taken James, it would last longer.”

Jimmy scoffed and leant against Thomas’s wardrobe. “I wouldn’t want to smash it’s lens, Mr Barrow. Why are you getting all dressed up?”

Thomas turned and gave the footman a quizzical stare. “What are you on about?”

Jimmy folded his arms and indicated at Thomas’s smart suit. “You’re wearing your best suit, the one you bought not that long ago. Why are you making such an effort if you just want to be friends with the John bloke that you’re meeting?”

Thomas shot Jimmy a look and began to sort out his dark blue tie. He could feel the younger man staring at him as he thread the silky fabric through his nimble fingers, a task that always reminded him of valeting for the gentry. A sudden flashback to Mr Kemal Pamuk forced Thomas to freeze, halting his actions for a moment as his tie lay half-tied between his hands. He could picture the handsome Turk now, glaring at him coldly. Pamuk had been so soft spoken and gentle, flirtatious even until he had made a miscalculation and almost ended up being reported. A part of him had always wondered about what had happened with Lady Mary after he showed Pamuk to her door...

“Do you want a hand?” Jimmy asked gently, effectively snapping the under butler from his thoughts.

Thomas forced a laugh. “Jimmy, I was a valet. I can tie my own tie.”

The younger man smirked as he snorted softly, appreciating Thomas’s sarcasm. He continued to watch the older man potter around his room as he organised his belongings and placed his small collection of poetry books away. Thomas Barrow had few possessions but his room was always as spotless and perfectly placed as his own person appearance. Jimmy rather envied him for it as his room seemed to become untidy far too quickly.

“I’ve got to head down soon.” Jimmy stated quietly.

Thomas turned to smile at him. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs now?”

The footman shrugged. “Carson thinks I’m upstairs in the bachelor corridor so I’m alright for a few minutes. Thomas, will you promise me that you’ll be careful?” He asked in a serious, more sombre tone.

The under butler’s eyebrows rose in surprise but he was able to give Jimmy another smile. “Yes, I’ll be careful. You know I will be.” His head tilted to the left slightly as he took in the other man’s tight lipped expression. “What’s the matter?”

Jimmy sighed and quickly gave Thomas a false smile. “I just want you to watch yourself. This man could have been Mr. Wonderful on that great ship of his but you just never know, do you, especially with you just wanting to be friends and all. What if he wants more and starts being funny with you? I’ve heard about people dropping all sorts into people’s drinks and that people are being put into the back of cars and all sorts. Liverpool’s got some characters hanging around.”

Only a few, very rare moments in Thomas Barrow’s life had ever left him feeling ‘touched’. The first was when his friend at school, Callum, pushed an older bully into a thick, muddy puddle after he called Thomas a girl. The second was when he received his first kiss. The third was when Lady Sybil touched his arm in Downton’s hospital and told him that deep down, he seemed very sweet to her. The fourth was when Mrs Hughes comforted him in the rain. Now, Jimmy Kent giving a damn about his safety became the fifth. “Well thanks for worrying, Jimmy but you don’t need to. John Brady is a decent man, I promise you. Besides you know me, I always find a way to get myself out of things.”

His last comment earned him another scoff from Jimmy, but a genuine smile returned to the footman’s face. “You’re right there, Mr Barrow. You can be a force of nature sometimes, I can tell you that.”

“Exactly,” Thomas smirked.

“A miserable, grey could hanging over everyone like a –“

Jimmy’s head was knocked backwards into the wardrobe when a firm pillow collided with his face.

 

* * *

 

Liverpool was a fascinating place. Ever since his first visit, Thomas had formed a love, hate relationship with the city. He could never decide whether he truly liked visiting or whether he found his short stays too overwhelming. On one hand, the city was bustling and filled with interesting people, an example being the strange foreign sailors who could be found around the docks. He’d met a few very nice gentlemen from various lands in some of the riverside pubs where his eyes had been opened in one way or another. There were many beautiful old buildings to see and plenty of places to visit when one fancied a stroll, however, the city was also rather dangerous one and some of the interesting characters that trawled the city could turn out to be beggars, thieves, liars and thugs, depending on whether you were unlucky enough to bump into one of these shady characters. It was a cold, drizzly city and it often felt very grey to Thomas. Parts of it were dirty, noisy and decaying whilst some areas were very beautiful. Despite all of the gems the city had to offer and all its misery, Thomas appreciated that he had always been able to meet someone, somewhere. Today, he would meet John Brady.

As the handsome under butler stepped out of Liverpool station, he moved to the left of the entrance wall and leaned against it as he slipped a cigarette between his teeth. An elderly couple passed him, followed by a smartly dressed young lady who gave Thomas a flirtatious smile before she took the arm of the older woman. Now he may be a homosexual but Thomas never did tire of the appraising smiles he often received from the women.

“Good afternoon, Mr Barrow.” A cheerful voice greeted him.

Thomas looked left and found John Brady standing before him in a light brown suit. He looked smart yet practical and his suit was made from a decent enough material, although it was clearly a cheap fabric. Thomas was not criticising Mr Brady in his observations as he suit was no Saville Row creation.

“Good afternoon, Mr Brady.” He smirked at his companion.

John tipped his hat and gave Thomas a cheeky grin before he raised his arm to indicate towards the left. “Shall we head off?”

“I suppose we better.” Thomas quipped as he stepped into line with John. He quickly glanced at the other man, admiring his side profile as he wondered if the steward appeared more or less handsome than the last time Thomas had seen him. The other man’s brown hair did look very soft.

John suddenly turned his head and gave Thomas a bashful smile. “You look very smart by the way. I like your suit, the colour suits you very well.”

Thomas snorted softly but kept his eyes forward. “Well thank you. You look rather dapper yourself.”

John laughed as a faint blush coated his cheeks. He led Thomas down a narrow side street and pointed towards a busy pub with his finger. “This is one of my favourite pubs. They do a bloody good pork pie if you’re hungry. They’ve got a good selection of ales as well.”

As John pushed open the heavy wooden door, Thomas peered around at the dark, over filling room. This was not an issue as he had always preferred noisy, crowded pubs as they offered more protection when he was meeting another man. It was always easy to hide amongst the shadow of a large group or to find a darkened table. The rest of the pub’s occupants would be too busy chatting to their own party or too distracted by the amount of bodies in the room to pay attention to a still couple tucked away into a corner. His companion could slip a hand onto Thomas’s thigh or wrap a loose around his hip and no one in room would bat an eye. After pushing through the dense crowd, John was able to pull two unoccupied stools towards the end of the bar where he and Thomas could sit in the corner of the room, mostly hidden by a large circle of scandalously dressed young women to their right. It took Thomas nearly fifteen minutes to place on order for two pints and another twenty before they received their drinks but despite everything, the two men were content.

“How have you been?” John asked, leaning close to Thomas’s ear.

The under butler smiled and replied, “very well, thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you!” John said loudly, grinning. “After you left for New York, we stopped off for a night as well, me and a few of the lads. Our crew weren’t saddling up for another night so we had some time to ourselves.”

Unable to hold back a sigh, Thomas tried to not to appear too wistful as he imagined the exciting places that John Brady must have seen. A small part of him often wondered what his life would have been like had he decided to join his cousin, Stewart, in Bombay. The weather would be so warm and the men would have all been dark and tanned.

“So what do you do at Downton?” John smiled, taking a sip of his larger.

“I’m the under-butler so I’m second in command,” Thomas began, “so I carry out half of the head butler’s duties for him. I’m responsible for ensuring that the male staff do their jobs properly, as well as supporting our housekeeper.” The description of his duties was as honest as it could have been. In comparison, he felt that his career was dull and very traditional, a universe away from a steward embracing the brave new world.

“I’ve never heard of an under butler before. Your job sounds stressful. I would hate to work for a stuffy, stuck-up family,” John sighed.  “At least we don’t have to wait on the same people day in, day out. Sorry, I don’t mean to insult you or the importance of your work. You’re a more tolerant man than I.”

Thomas shook his head and placed his pint glass down. “I wasn’t insulted, don’t worry. There are times when I doubt whether I entered the right line of work. What’s it like travelling to new places?”

John snorted and had to quickly cover his mouth to stop himself from spitting his drink out. Thomas laughed and thumped him twice on the back to prevent the man from choking. John burst into ruptures of giggles, becoming so embarrassed that his cheeks burned and he had to hide his head in his arms for a moment to calm his excitement. He finally sat up, red faced and took a deep breath before he stuttered, “sorry, I don’t know how I managed that.”

“Mind you don’t choke!” A young brunette called from the large group that were sat behind them. The group all laughed and one young man raised his pint to John, chortling merrily.

John laughed in return and faced Thomas again. His deep hazel eyes were sparkling with so much joy that Thomas felt his stomach knot slightly. John was incredibly kind and he was handsome but he was supposed to only wish to be friends with the man. He had promised himself that he would not allow himself to become attracted to him, not again.

“I’m making an arse of myself.” John blushed again, avoiding the under butler’s gaze. “I had prepared myself so that I could come across as being very collected and cool but that’s all gone to pot.” He laughed gently and took a large swig of his pint.

Thomas chuckled, his mouth slightly lopsided as a cigarette hung from his lips. He lit his smoke and watched John taking long, very careful gulps of his drink. He felt warmed by the other man’s obvious attempts to please him and he found it very sweet. John was an open book; a true free spirit. The man had such a gentle nature that Thomas felt guilty for his initial attitude towards the steward when John had stared curiously at Thomas as accompanying Lord Grantham to his cabin. Compared to Thomas, John Brady was a saint.

“You’re not, I promise you.” Thomas assured John kindly. “Tell me about some of the countries you’ve visited.”

“Mmm!” John groaned softly as he swallowed his mouthful. “My favourite country to visit in the entire world is France! Some areas are not the same as they were before the war but oh Thomas, Paris! Paris is my favourite city! Have you been?”

Thomas nodded as he lit his cigarette. “I’ve been briefly when I had some time off during the war. I was stationed in France.”

“Oh yes, I remember you saying! It’s a shame you weren’t able to visit before the war. It’s still a beautiful city.” John sighed dreamily.

John continued to enthral Thomas with his recollections of past journeys and adventures, along with humorous tales of snobby guests, secret affairs and awful captains. John had many stories lengthy stories to tell his new friend and soon three hours passed. The pair had not moved from their spot in the corner but they were not alone as many other customers remained at their tables, laughing merrily and calling for more alcohol. The atmosphere was lively and quite rowdy but the raucous from the other punters was a blessing as Thomas and John’s conversations were shielded from eavesdroppers.

“You’ve certainly led an interesting life.” Thomas smiled as he wiped his leaking eyes.

John swigged back the final mouthful from his pint glass, smacking his lips before he laughed again, “I have indeed!” He wiped the corner of his mouth as he watched his companion turn to examine the pub’s large room. “Thomas, do you fancy going for a stroll? The rain has stopped.”

Tomas turned his attention back to John and gave him an eager smile. “I would actually.”

John gathered his and Thomas’s empty pint glasses and gently nudged them down the bar, earning him a grateful nod from one of the barmaids. They gathered their coats and pushed their way through the crowds before they were final able to step out into the humid air. The sky above them was overcast and very grey but the air was not cold, it was quite warm but very damp. Despite the humidity, it was still pleasant enough for a slow stroll through the crowded streets. Thomas and John’s conversation was easy and gentle, polite to a fault, but both men were very grateful that they were both able to be so open with each other as they swapped stories and shared laughter. John found Thomas enchanting, charismatic, but enigmatic enough to remain mysterious and intriguing. Mr Barrow was a tough nut to crack and he knew that he was still only peeling away mere chips in the handsome man’s armour. In return, Thomas found John sweet-tempered, understanding and considerate; three qualities that were rare in a man, or at least where rare in his eyes. The pair walked and walk, neither paying any particular attention to where they were headed. Eventually they passed a small park where a young nanny had parked a perambulator beside a white bandstand as she watched three young children chase each other through a flowerbed. John began to whistle a humorous tune and winked at the three young children who laughed. The smallest, a small girl in a pink dress, gave John a wide smile before she darted in front of them to join her nanny.

“Gwendolyn, don’t run in front of others! You could have run into the gentlemen.”  The nanny scolded, waggling her finger at the still grinning child.

John was paying no attention as he continued to whistle but Thomas watched the grinning little girl dance around her exhausted nanny. He wondered what it was like for children like her, children like Master George and Miss Sybbie. Small children did not have a care in the world, especially if their parents lived comfortably and well. The nanny that was trying to calm the excited young girl was at her last tether, there was no doubt but her eyes shone as she tried not to laugh at the child’s antics. These children were clearly adored by the nanny. Thomas held some fond memories from his childhood, such as the round window he loved and his mother. He could vaguely remember that he used to receive a lot of cuddles from the old spinster who had lived next door to them. She had no children of her own but she had always favoured him as he could remember receiving sweets and once a knitted bear. His mother adored him and his sister, Margaret, practised motherhood with him when he was small. Frank, his elder brother, used to carry him around on his shoulders so that Thomas could pretend he was flying but then Frank left. Then Margaret left to become a maid. His mother had died. His father threw him out.

“Are you alright?” John asked, nudging Thomas with his elbow.

Thomas blinked and sharply looked at his companion. “Sorry, what?”

John smiled but his eyebrows were furrowed slightly. “You looked a little lost for a moment. Penny for your thoughts?”

Thomas shrugged, “I was just thinking that it might rain again and I haven’t brought an umbrella. I hate looking like a drowned rat and my hair won’t lie flat.”

John snorted and shook his head, “you’re a vain one, Mr Barrow.” He shot a knowing smirk at the under butler and burst out laughing when he received a shrug from Thomas. “You’re funny though, you’re definitely a funny one.”

Thomas sniggered at the backhanded compliment as he searched his pockets for a cigarette. He felt his heart almost skip a beat when it took him longer than normal to locate the crinkled paper box but he finally found his precious tobacco in his coat pocket. He could have dropped to his knees in relief. Had Thomas left them at the pub, he would have made sure that the world knew of his despair. He could feel John’s eyes on him as the other man watched him slip a cigarette between his teeth so he could light it. Thomas offered a cigarette to John but the steward shook his head, seemingly more content with watching Thomas smoking rather than participating. As Thomas enjoyed his dose of tobacco, he and John walked together in comfortable silence for a few more years before John stopped and indicated towards a vacant wooden park bench, “Would you like to sit for a moment?”

Thomas definitely did want to sit down for a moment so he nodded eagerly before elegantly plopping himself down at the end of the bench as he shot John a cheeky smile. “Don’t mind if I do.”

John shook his head and followed suit, also taking a seat. He snorted gently at Thomas’s cheek, a quality that he found very endearing in the other man. When he had first laid eyes on Thomas in the old Liverpool bar and even when he spotted Thomas on the ferry, he observed that Thomas looked like a very proud, cold, quite possibly arrogant, handsome young man. From a distance he was almost intimidating, simply because he looked so untouchable and perfect with his lean frame, straight back and starting contrast. His sharp eyes, angular feature and dark hair did make him appear ominous but when one got to know him and was allowed to speak comfortably with him, a person would see how witty the man was and how warm he could be. The man had a heart, it was clear, although perhaps he only seemed to extend his heart to a select few.

Thomas shot John a quick glance and caught the man watching him again. He could feel a blush rise into his cheeks but he kept his face forward as he inhaled his cigarette.

“I keep looking at you, sorry.” John said quietly as he also blushed. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, I just find you fascinating.”

Thomas couldn’t help smiling softly at the sweet compliment but he still kept his eyes forward. “Be careful what you say out here,” he warned, “you never know if someone might overhear and suspect that something funny is going on.”

“Well there’s no one else around us at the moment.” John answered in a low voice, “but I see your point.”

“You need to stop making eyes at me all the time as well, alright? It’s kind of you and it’s lovely but you just don’t know who’s knocking around looking for trouble.” Thomas muttered darkly. His mood lowered and suddenly the overcast sky felt very appropriate.

John sat up slightly straighter next to him and he looked slightly offended. “Alright, I’ll stop looking at you then. You’re right…it’s just that nobody is around us here, not like at the pub-”

“We’re still out in the open.” Thomas interjected bluntly. “I’m sorry that I’m being harsh, it’s just that you - people like us - can’t be so…so careless.”

John nodded slowly and gave Thomas a brief, sad smile but his shoulders slumped slightly. Thomas felt guilty but it was true, he couldn’t afford to be careless. He had noticed that John was very relaxed when he had been approached by the man on the ferry, as well as John’s carelessness when he visited Thomas’s room. It was a beautiful thing to see someone be so unconcerned, like the small children they had passed, but Thomas knew what the cost of carelessness could bring. It had almost cost him his job, his reputation, his _freedom!_ If Jimmy had decided to follow through with O’Brien’s plan, Thomas would have been arrested in the morning. That didn’t happen, he had ended up being promoted by a fluke but he could not go on as he always had, nor could the other servants who knew what had taken place _that night_. Thomas would always need to be careful, especially around the likes of Carson. In the eyes of the senior staff members and bloody Alfred, Thomas had lost the small amount of trust that they had placed in him. Jimmy had forgiven him, hell the idiot had even _kissed_ him but their relationship will never be the same. The Crawley’s knew about his preferences and even they are now weary. Every single person that he lived with and worked for would always keep an eye on him in some way. Every single young, handsome man that came to work at the abbey would be warned about Thomas. Every single handsome guest who stayed at Downton would be whispered about and someone, at least one person, would glance at Thomas to see if they could catch the under butler looking. Every time Thomas received a letter or took a day off, other servants would likely raise their eyebrows and wonder if Thomas was off to indulge in illicit activities with some farmer or a sailor or whoever. All of this, all of the trust and the façade that he had tried to create, all of the times that Thomas had kept quiet about his personal life or simply carried on in feigned ignorance – it was gone. His life at Downton would never be the same again, ever. That was the price he paid for _carelessness_.

He was snatched from his thoughts when a hand quickly patted his shoulder. He blinked and turned to look John in the eye, who was gazing at him sadly.

“The world has really beaten you down, hasn’t it?” he said quietly.

Thomas could only nod and swallow the lump in his throat as he begged his eyes not to water. Yes, the world had beaten him down.

“If you feel more comfortable,” John started, “my brother and his family have saved up for a weekend to Scarborough. They’re away now. The house is empty, except for me of course. We could go there so we can be away from the world. It’s not too far.”

Thomas nodded again.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Jimmy stood to attention in the Crawley’s dining room as the family tucked into their dinner. Tonight’s discussion was everyone’s favourite topic: Mary. She was being questioned over his budding relationship with the dashing Lord Gillingham and Lady Rose appeared to be very enthusiastic. Jimmy had to constantly stifle his yawns. To pass the time, Jimmy wondered about Thomas. What was his friend up to? Where was he? Was that bloody steward keeping his hands to himself?

“I think we should take a trip to London one day, all of us!” Lady Rose chirped, startling Jimmy out of his daydream. “That would fun, wouldn’t it?”

He tried not to roll his eyes whilst he fought to keep his face expression blank, the ‘servants blank’ as Thomas would say, as the Crawley’s whittled away about their superficial, privileged lives. It was exhausting listening to them, day in and day out, for the family barely changed their topics of discussion. Their conversations were always about Mary, the estate, Mary, the children, their wine, the weather, Lord Grantham’s blooming dog or Mary.

_“I hope your having a better time, Mr Barrow.”_ Jimmy thought bitterly, _“and I hope you bring back some drink.”_

 

* * *

 

Thomas was enjoying himself, he was enjoying himself immensely. Tomorrow, Thomas will wonder how on earth he managed to break his own promise. He would wonder how on earth he ended up in John Brady’s arms, half naked and pressed against the man’s attic room wall with one leg around his waist and the other strung over the man’s shoulder. The position shouldn’t have been possible on the first place but they managed it.

Mr Barrow would definitely be feeling the effect of _this_ in the morning.


	11. A Queer Sleeping Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy slips into Thomas's room after his return from York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my lovely readers, new and old!  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Drifting in and out of a light sleep, Thomas lay on his side later that night. He had returned to Downton quite late and turned in for the night as soon as he had his last cigarette for the night. The return journey from Liverpool had stolen all of his remaining energy, leaving the under butler feeling quite faint and light headed. After giving Jimmy an apologetic smile, for the footman had clearly been waiting to speak to him, he had quietly slipped away from the rest of the servants to prepare himself for bed. It was moments like this when Thomas was thoroughly exhausted that he truly appreciated his small cot. The mattress may be old and thin, it’s springs creaky but it was good enough for anyone. He gave his sheets another firm tug, pulling the covers closer to his face so he could create a small nest around his shoulders. As he nestled into his sheets, Thomas tried to ignore his aching limbs and, well...his sore backside. He had spent another rigorous few hours in John Brady’s company and as lovely as the man was, Thomas had never enjoyed slow, gentle sex as much as a good, rough fuck so he had always demanded a lot from his partners, which he always paid the price for later. John was strong, very strong and although he had made numerous attempts to take Thomas slower once they had moved to the man’s bed, Thomas had urged the man to go harder, faster.

 

“ _Thomas, love, are you sure you don’t want me to take my time?” John had panted as he continued his deep thrusts._

_Heavy breaths. A strong hand gripping his waist, whilst another hand held onto his thigh as a thick, hard shaft pound into him. A soft kiss against his forehead._

_“No, just keep going,” he had whispered. “Don’t stop, John.”_

 

Every look from John, every touch from John and every sharp thrust against his prostate was still freshly imprinted on Thomas’s skin like burns from the licks of a flame. He could feel John’s smooth biceps on his hands and the man’s taut waist. He could feel his soft, short hair and his pulsing, leaking cock. He could taste the man on his tongue, his mouth, his sweat, his release. The trail of kisses that John had licked and nipped down his spine electrocuted his nerves and left all of his skin alive to the sensation. It was pleasant to feel such strong reactions within his body from his time with John but within the pleasure, Thomas felt confusion. The physical signs were clear to him as he knew he enjoyed the intimacy he shared with the other man because, bluntly put, John Brady was a damn good lay. Perhaps next time, Thomas could take him for a change. He was aware that he was as selfish in the bedroom as he was any other time and if he were to ever form a partnership with someone, he would need to remember to pay attention to his lover’s needs as well as his own. Sharing was not his strong point as he had spent so longer living for himself.

Suddenly he froze. ‘ _Would there be a next time?’_ was the question that was playing over and over in the back of his mind. He enjoyed spending time with John and he so desperately wanted to form a close friendship with the steward. This is the very reason why he had initially promised to himself that he would not sleep with the man. Then what did he go and do? He ended up in his arms again. He ended up against the wall, against the dresser, on his knees, on the other man’s damn bed. He did not stop John when he had moved closer to Thomas or when he had leaned forward to capture his lips in a gentle, irresistible kiss. He had not stopped the other man from threading his fingers into his hair and he had certainly not stopped himself from climbing onto the man’s lap. There should not be any issues, surely? Thomas was not tied to anyone else and in all truth, he was desperately lonely. Only a year ago, Thomas would have given anything to fall into the arms of a handsome, kind man. He had dreamt of meeting a fellow homosexual who was interested in him, who wouldn’t toss him aside from selfishness or cowardice like Philip had done.

“ _You’re so beautiful_ ,” Philip had often whispered. “ _I want to keep you forever._ ”

The old saying ‘ _I want never gets’_ came to mind.

John had never said any ridiculous, romantic drivel like that and Thomas hoped that he never would. He was an honest man, a brave man. He was liberal, considerate and cultured, with many exciting tales to tell and plenty of passion. Although the distance was a problem, along with the issue that he worked at sea, overall the man was perfect. He corrected Thomas with confidence without ever speaking bluntly and he listened carefully to Thomas’s words before he offered advice. He was a little careless, a little reckless but it was clear that he had never experienced the bone chilling fear that Thomas had. In that sense, Thomas could help him whilst also learning to embrace love and confidence for himself. John was perfect for him, was he not? He was almost too good to be true. Could he learn to love John? It was quite possible. Could he run away and join him at sea. He could perhaps wrangle himself some sort of work arrangement somehow. He had worked in servitude and he was strong enough himself. He looked smart in his livery at Downton so surely he would look good in the steward’s uniform. He was intelligent and a faster learner with a lot of experience so it could be possible that he could work his way up  to a more senior position. That is of course if that is how one advances at sea. Thomas had no idea.

“ _Stop thinking like this_ ,” he whispered, scolding himself. “Stop filling your head with daft ideas.”

A sudden knock on his door startled him as jolted backwards, hitting his head off the frame of his bed.

“ _Bloody buggering hell!_ ” he cried as he massaged his scalp. “Who is it?”

He heard a chuckled outside of his door. “It’s Jimmy. Are you alright? You just shuffled off so I wondered if you were ill. I don’t think you ever had your cigarette. Even Mr Bates here is concerned, aren’t you Mr Bates?”

Thomas heard Bates voice in the corridor retort, “no, I’m not,” before he heard the valet open his bedroom door.

“Alright then, he isn’t. Can I come in or are you asleep?” Jimmy asked loudly.

Before Thomas could reply, he heard Mr Carson scold the footman. “James! Mr Barrow has likely had a long day. He doesn’t need you heckling him, not when we all need to well rested for tomorrow.”

Thomas sank back into his pillows and smiled as Jimmy and Carson bickered before eventually Jimmy gave in and promised the butler that he would not bother Mr Barrow. Thomas grinned and listened to the various footsteps that passed his door. He heard Mr Mosely exchange a good night with Alfred and he could hear the hall boys chattering excitedly down the corridor. Mr Carson would shush the lads and tell them to settle down. After about an hour or so, the house fell quiet and Thomas heard no more doors closing and no more footsteps. He sighed and pulled his covers tightly around himself to conserve heat. The distant hooting of an owl drew his attention to his window where moonlight was streaming through the glass. He did not often close his curtains unless it was too cold, as he liked to watch the stars sometimes from his bed whilst he daydreamed. Once when he a child, Thomas had snuck out of his room during the winter and went into the woods for an adventure – behaviour that he would not approve should Miss Sybbie or Master George ever decide they would do the same. He had found a frozen pond that night that was so clear, the stars reflected across the ice. He had at least had the common sense not to decide that running across frozen water at night with no adult supervision was a good thing so little Thomas had simply stood at the edge and imagined himself skating across the stars like the rich men and ladies in postcards. For days, he had dreamt about skating in space, weaving in between the stars and scooping up their sliver, glittery dust in his hands as he skimmed past. Now, Thomas imagined doing the same as an adult. He doubted he would look as graceful now that he was a tall grown man but the beauty of the fantasy had not lost its appeal.

_Knock knock._

“Thomas?” Jimmy whispered. “Are you awake?

The under butler’s head snapped to the left to stare at his bedroom door. Did the stupid fool want Mr Carson to come storming out of his room, hollering at him?

“Jimmy, shh! Quickly get in!” He snapped as loudly as he could whilst speaking as quietly as he could.

His door carefully opened and Jimmy quickly hopped inside his room. He was in his pyjamas, like Thomas and but his hair was still perfectly in place, suggesting that the young man had not yet been to bed.

“Hello,” Jimmy grinned. “I’ve really woken you up, haven’t I? Sorry about that.” The cheeky lopsided smile and the shrug have gave Thomas showed that the man was not sorry at all.

Thomas shook his and head as he pulled himself upwards so that he could sit up straight. He had forgotten all about his aching body until a sharp pain shot up his spine from his sore bottom. “It’s fine – _ahh, shit!_ ” he winched.

“What is it?” Jimmy whispered as he quickly moved across the room to sit on the edge of Thomas’s bed. “What’s the matter?”

Thomas shook his head and swatted away the younger man’s hand when he reached for his forehead. “It’s nothing Jimmy, I’m fine.”

The footman glanced at Thomas’s hand, which was not wrapped in a glove like usual. He studied the damaged hand carefully but the other man realised and moved his hand away to hide the scarred flesh. Jimmy reached across the under butler to lift Thomas’s injured hand out from beneath his blankets so he could look the damage. He quickly glanced at Thomas and found him staring at Jimmy with a concerned, rather frightened expression.

“Does your hand hurt?” Jimmy asked him carefully.

Thomas shook his head and tried to pull his hand away from the younger man. Jimmy was so beautiful, so perfect in his looks. A man like him should not have to see his ugly scarred flesh. He looked up and found himself meeting the footman’s eyes.

“So why would you cry out and flinch then if your hands not hurting. You can’t always be so proud you know.” Jimmy said softly as he kept his gaze firmly set on Thomas. Without realising, he began to gently stroke the top of the under butler’s hands with his fingers to comfort his friend.

Thomas felt heat pool into his cheeks and he was embarrassed to know that his face would be red. He suddenly registered the soft strokes across his skin where Jimmy was carefully smoothing his thumbs over his knuckles. The gentle gliding sensation was very soothing and Thomas found himself thinking of his mother. ‘ _Don’t bloody cry!_ ’ echoed around his mind as he forced himself to blink away potential tears as he was not used to someone treating him so tenderly.

“My hand’s fine. I just sat up too quickly and it made me – “ Thomas began in a hushed voice before Jimmy narrowed his eyes at him.

“You sat...you slept with that bloke, didn’t you?” Jimmy whispered in an accusing tone. “You said that you just wanted to be his _friend_.”

Try as he might, Thomas could not deny this fact. He blushed again and slumped back against his headboard. “Well...fine, yes I did. I know I said that but we were chatting in the park and he kept looking at me so I told me not to be so obvious so he suggested that we go to his room –“

Jimmy’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “He kept _looking_ at you?” he spat in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. I told you to be careful!”

“Don’t look at me like that, he’s not pervert.” Thomas snapped. “I just meant that he was looking at me like I was – like I was...well wonderful. John kept on looking too smitten, which was very sweet but as I told him people like us are in so much danger. We can’t be too obvious.”

Jimmy looked thoroughly unconvinced and continued to frown. “He’s not a pervert but he was making eyes at you then he conveniently decides to take you back to his home so he can bugger you, is that it? Christ Thomas, are you that naive?”

Thomas’s mouth fell open in shocked horror. “Jimmy, he’s _lovely!_ John’s very kind, very gentle and very considerate. He fancies me; I know that. In fact it’s _me_ who’s in the wrong because I could be leading him on and he doesn’t know that...at least not properly.” He trailed off as he considered the importance of his own words.

The footman crossed his arms and snorted. “I thought you told him a relationship wouldn’t work? He still took you back to his place, didn’t he? We all know what it means when a man does that. He was after you and he got what he wanted. I use that bloody trick myself, don’t I? I know the game.”

Thomas was a millimetre away from punching Jimmy square in the jaw. “Oh so what, I’m the clueless little naive woman in the situation, am I? I’m the bloody helpless fool who’s swept along by the clever man?”

Jimmy threw his hands up into the air in frustration as he stared around, praying for strength. “For god’s sake,” he whispered coldly, “I’m trying to look out for you here! Women can be sneaky but it’s the men are clever with this sort of stuff. You’re too...too _nice_ to do that, you know. You’re the kind of person who men will chase, I can tell. Do you want to know how I guessed that?”

Thomas shrugged as he swallowed nervously, “how?”

“Once I found out that you’re a queer and after we had our long chat in the kitchen awhile back, I just assumed. You’re normally so sharp and composed but when you were around me, you fell apart a little bit. You were awkward and _you_ were obvious, probably in the same way that your John fella was. There was no finesse to your technique, shall we say?” Jimmy said softly, waving his left hand for effect. He gave Thomas a small smile to lighten the tone of their conversation before he continued, “you’re terrible at flirting when you’re approaching people, do you know that? I think it’s because you’re very insecure, Thomas. I don’t think you’re used to being the one who approaches people as well. The times when I’ve seen you teasing Mrs Patmore by pretending to flirt with her to steal a biscuit, or the times when you carry on with the woman in the post office to jump the que, you’re very good. You’re good at flirting when it doesn’t mean anything and I reckon that you’ll be good when you’re with someone who you know for certain likes you back – likes you in _that way_ , I mean. You’re too romantic to mess people about, unlike me. I know I’m a git and that I treat women like dirt, I know that and you’ve told me so don’t start. You don’t want to just sleep with people but you will when some bloke approaches you, don’t you?” I’m right aren’t I?” Jimmy finished firmly, giving Thomas a small nod.

Thomas swallowed again, unable to give the footman a verbal answer. His head felt as though it was spinning and he felt faint again as goose bumps broke out over his skin that suddenly felt too tight and quite clammy. His breath felt trapped inside his throat as his head continued to spin, his thoughts waltzing around his mind as his heart raced and raced, overwhelming Thomas, tipping him over an iceberg until soothing, gentle circles were traced against the back of his hand. The small repetitive strokes distracted Thomas’s mind from unfocused, disarrayed thoughts and brought his attention back to the present.

“You want to fall in love with someone but you’re scared to approach people.” Jimmy finished in a soft, sad whisper. He stopped tracing patterns across the under butler’s pale hand so that he could admire the scarred flesh again. “As for this,” he smiled, indicating towards Thomas’s hand, “it’s fine so don’t worry about me finding your injury disturbing to look at. You were very brave, Mr Barrow. I’m glad you got to come home.”

Thomas stared at the scared flesh that lay across the other man’s perfect, tanned hand. Jimmy was so perfect, so utterly perfect. How on earth did he ever believe that this stunning young man would hold a candle to him? He watched Jimmy carefully place his hand next to his side again before the footman shuffled closer.

Jimmy smiled softly and looked at Thomas with concerned eyes. “So are you alright then? He didn’t hurt you or use any pretty words to get you into bed? You rushed off so quickly, I was worried that you were hurt.”

The older man shook his head firmly and adjusted himself into a move comfortable sitting position, purposely ignoring Jimmy’s eyes widening when he flinched. Once he was settled, he gave Jimmy a quick a smile. “I’m fine, Jimmy. It was me who – I don’t know how to explain it. He wanted to be gentler, let’s put it that way. I enjoyed it and I was not coerced into anything, I promise. My full consent was given.”

Jimmy snorted again as he watched Thomas. A sudden chill ran up his spine that startled him when his body shuddered. It was a chilly night and Thomas looked cosy in his blankets. “Move up, Mr Barrow. I’m bloody freezing.”

“What?” Thomas bleated, confused by Jimmy’s instruction. He reluctantly shuffled to the right as the footman began to climb into his bed, lifting Thomas’s sheets so that he could lie next to him.

“Well am I supposed to sit and freeze? You’ve got more than enough room!” the footman chuckled as he writhed around in the blankets, adjusting himself.

Thomas couldn’t help laughing at the man as he wriggled pathetically against the sheets. “Pack it in, you’re making a racket!” He hissed, although his eyes were shining.

Jimmy threw him a scowl and continued to fuss until finally, he settled comfortably next to the under butler in the warm cot. The two men may be slim, Jimmy particularly, but the servants beds were quite narrow so both men found themselves squashed against each other. To create more breathing space, Jimmy wrapped an arm around the top of the bed frame and snuggled closer to Thomas.

“There, now we’re cosy.” He snorted, nudging the back of Thomas’s head with the arm that he leant against the bed frame.

Thomas smirked and pulled the blankets higher so that they rested just below his chin. He still felt exhausted so he tried to lay his back but found that Jimmy’s shoulder was in the way. The footman saw that he was trying to lay down so Jimmy quickly pulled himself into an upwards sitting position to allow his friend to rest. Jimmy was comfortable leaning against the head of the bed whilst Thomas sighed softly beneath him as he nestled into his blankets. Jimmy fiddled with his pyjama shirt and yawned, feeling tired himself. He couldn’t keep his eyes from closing and after a few moments silence, Jimmy almost fell asleep, content and warm next to his friend.

Suddenly, Thomas spoke up in a hushed voice, “oh, there’s a bottle of whiskey for you on my desk. I’m surprised you didn’t spot it straight away.”

“Mmm,” Jimmy smiled before he stretched his arms out to the side, resembling a bird about to take flight. “Do you want me to bring it over?” He yawned.

Thomas closed his eyes whilst pulling a thoughtful frown before he finally nodded, “yeah, go and get it.”

Jimmy grumbled as he reluctantly pulled himself out of the bed and pattered across the cold wooden floor. He continued to grumble in his thoughts, ‘ _I knew I should have kept my socks on’_ as he pulled the bottle away from the desk and quickly ran across the room back to the bed, where he all but jumped back into his previous spot, earning him a sharp glare from Thomas. He settled himself back into a comfortable position before he yanked the cork from the small glass bottle.

“I approve of your choice, Mr Barrow. For a man who prefers wine, you’ve selected a fine option for this evening.” Jimmy delivered in a pompous impression of an aristocratic lord. “Well done, old sport.”

Thomas shot him a mock glare and shook his head before he closed his eyes. “You can have the first few mouthfuls.”

The first few mouthfuls turned into half of the entire bottle but Thomas didn’t care as he really was not a fan of whiskey. He was happy to watch Jimmy’s face turn darker shades of pink as the alcohol took it’s toll on the man, whose composure slipped and slipped with each eager gulp. Twenty minutes later, Jimmy was almost swaying as he recited an event from earlier in the day when Alfred almost tipped a soup bowl over Tom Branson’s head during dinner whilst Thomas had to cover his mouth to stop himself from giggling too loudly. Jimmy entertained him with more humorous tales until the pair fell into a content silence as their chuckles died down. Thomas allowed his eyes to close again as he leant his head against Jimmy’s thigh and almost purred when his felt light fingers threading through his hair.

“So,” Jimmy whispered, giving Thomas’s scalp a little tap, “if this John guy was so _nice_ , what did you do?”

Thomas opened one eye briefly as he mumbled sleepily, “what do you mean?”

“Well where did you meet him and where did you go? You had a full day out so he wasn’t shagging you all day, was he?” Jimmy queried. “Was he? Can men go for longer?”

Thomas burst out laughing and had to quickly smother himself with blankets as he prayed that Mr Bates or Alfred weren’t startled awake by his outburst. Jimmy kicked his leg with his foot and shook his head, “what are you laughing at?”

“It was the way you delivered _can men go for longer_ ,” he snorted. “No Jimmy, no he was not shagging me all day, thank you!” He had to blink the tears out of his eyes. “We went to a pub and had a few drinks, as well as a quick bite to eat. Then we went for a walk and ended up in a lovely park –“

“How romantic,” Jimmy interjected, although Thomas wondered if he detected a hint of bitterness in the footman’s tone.

“Yes well, it was very nice. Then we went back to his room and…you know the rest. Then he walked me back to the station, I picked you up a drink and I came back here. Happy, mother?” Thomas quipped, smirking at Jimmy.

The footman kicked him again and wagged his finger at his nose. “You were very naughty. What did I tell you about talking to strangers, young man?”

Thomas gazed up at him with a falsely demure expression, “What if I promised to never do it again?”

Jimmy grinned and leant over him to whisper into his hair, “that’s a promise you could never keep.” Before he pulled away, he caught the warm scent of Thomas’s hair. He smelled faintly of soap, something sweet and honey-like, as well as tobacco, which was predictable. It was a pleasant, familiar smell that was comforting.

“You’re right there.” Thomas smirked, closing his eyes again.

Jimmy stretched his arm out to the side so that it stretched across the back of the pillow so that he could rest his chin on his fist. As he carefully leaned into his new resting position, he found that his arm and torso framed Thomas, which gave him a better view of the under butler’s peaceful face. He believed the man when he said that the John bloke was a good person, he did but something was still bothering him at the back of his mind.

“Can I ask you a personal question to put myself at ease?” He asked softly.

Thomas nodded and opened his eyes, briefly appearing startled as he found Jimmy looming over him, “yeah, go on.”

“This John fella was alright with you then? You said that he wanted to be gentler with you but you wouldn’t let him? What did you mean?” he whispered as a blush crept onto his cheeks. He had a feeling that he did know what Thomas had meant but he wanted to be sure.

Thomas also blushed beneath him as a bashful smile played upon the corners of his red mouth. “Well…he wanted to go slower and be more romantic, I suppose. I just wanted him to bugger me. That’s the best way I can put it.”

Jimmy snorted as he nudged Thomas with his other arm. “Mr Barrow, you naughty thing! So you like a bit of rough then, eh?”

Thomas grinned and kept his eyes closed. “Oh yes, I’ll drink to that. Pass me the bottle.”

“Sit up because you’ll choke lying down.” Jimmy smiled.

Thomas heaved himself upwards, forgetting about his sore bottom and started to laugh once he winched. “Ooh, bloody hell,” he giggled as he took the whiskey from Jimmy, “don’t ever try be the one to get buggered Jimmy, keep yourself on top.” He swigged back the drink and almost spat it out when he felt a laugh bubbling in this throat.

Jimmy chuckled and pulled the bottle away from his friend. “Steady on, Thomas. Yeah, I think I’ll keep my arse to myself. Does it really hurt then, having a cock up your arse?”

Thomas lay back down and stared at the ceiling to ponder his answer. After a few moments he replied, “yes, it does hurt but that’s why you need lubrication. It’s not easy, especially not when it’s your first time or if you haven’t been buggered for a while.”

“You sound like the lasses.” Jimmy teased.

Thomas gave him a look and smirked, “piss off.” He turned his attention back to his stark, blank ceiling as he sniggered.

“What does it feel like?” Jimmy pressed as his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink.

Thomas sighed and looked up at his friend again with a small smile. “Do you really want to know? I might describe it daft or something.”

Jimmy shook his head firmly whilst staring back at Thomas with such determination that the under butler gave in and sighed again. The footman smiled as his watched the other man’s smile fall in defeat and for a reason he could not explain, Jimmy threaded his fingers through Thomas’s hair again as he waited to hear the under butler’s reply.

“Well like I just said, it’s not easy because it does hurt. If you lubricate well it doesn’t exactly hurt per say, it’s more of a very…how do I describe it? It’s a stretch – you’re physically stretching the muscle around your…well your arse, aren’t you? So it’s difficult. Once a bloke is in you then it’s alright because my arse would have stretched enough to accommodate him. You have to use your fingers first though; you can’t just go plunging in.” He paused for a brief moment as Jimmy laughed. “I’m being serious, shush. The other man would need to stretch me with his fingers, one by one. Normally I would need to have three fingers in me because he start fucking me with his cock. There’s a thing inside of a man that you hit, his prostate. That’s what makes sex between men pleasurable. When a bloke hits you hard and good there, _fuck_ , you just – you just see stars. It’s just constant pleasure as a bloke fucks you and hits you right on the perfect spot…and that’s what makes it all worth it. That’s what it’s like to be buggered. It’s the power of the person behind you, or wherever he is and it’s his movements. It’s how fast he goes and how deep. It’s even better when you’re teased for a bit, when the other man refuses to hit the right spot and he has you begging, calling him every name under the sun before he suddenly fucks you again, hits the nail on the head and then all you can see is just white light. It’s…it’s everything. There are lots of reasons why sex is good. You’ll know that.”

Jimmy was transfixed by Thomas, utterly captivated. He felt it, all of it, when he had pictured Thomas straddling him on that bloody rocking chair. He could see imaginary Thomas losing all composure, begging him, sweating, almost crying as Jimmy pounded into him, slowly and then hard, over and over.

“What about when you take a bloke into your mouth?” He whispered in a hoarse voice. His throat was so dry it felt as though he had been scrubbing his tongue with sandpaper.

Thomas swallowed and opened his mouth for a moment before he closed it, unable to form an answer quickly. He swallowed again before he sighed, “it’s good.”

“It’s good?” Jimmy pressed quietly.

“Yes,” Thomas whispered. His pupils were very large now and he looked slightly flushed. “Not many men taste particularly pleasant, I can tell you that. If you ignore the taste and if you’re sucking a bloke off willingly, you concentrate on his length, the firmness of his skin and you take pleasure from pleasuring him. You suckle his balls into your mouth –“

Jimmy’s breathing became slightly heavier as his pupils dilated as well. “I bet you can do it better than a lass.”

“Maybe,” Thomas laughed softly. “It’s empowering to see how you can make a man lose all of his control. I like telling people what to do but I also like it when a man fights me for dominance. I like it  when he pulls my hair and resists some of the tricks I pull when I’m pleasuring him, like when I swirl my tongue across the tip before I quickly take all of him back into my mouth to suck on him _hard_. Philip – the Duke – he used to go crazy when I did that. That’s when I always won.”

Jimmy couldn’t lie to himself; his body was reacting. The thin fabric of his trousers was beginning to strain against his length and his temperature was rising, making Jimmy feel uncomfortable. One wrong move and he was going to bump Thomas’s leg with something that was _not_ his knee. Thomas would be confused, possibly insulted and more importantly, Jimmy wasn’t queer. He was a heterosexual young man who had a thirst for beautiful women. He was simply curious or perhaps confused. He had only fantasised about Thomas due to boredom and curiosity, nothing more. He was only blushing now because the other man was describing queer sex so passionately in a low tone that bordered on sultry. Thomas was naturally alluring and sensual therefore Jimmy was experiencing a _natural_ reaction.

Thomas’s final sentence trailed away as he watched Jimmy’s facial expression carefully. The footman’s cheeks were flushed scarlet and he was gripping onto Thomas’s tighter than before as he breathed deeper. Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off Jimmy, not when the footman was holding his hair so tightly, firmly pulling at the soft strands at the back of his head; Thomas’s favourite spot for hair pulling. A sudden flash of him kneeling before Jimmy startled him and he felt Jimmy grasp his hair tighter when his body unintentionally jolted him slightly. Thomas’s own cheeks began to warm and he knew that his own pupils must be dark but alongside his arousal, he felt guilt, shame and vomit churning within his stomach. He could not think of Jimmy like _that_ now, not when the poor man was above him, staring down at him.

“What is it about men that you like, Thomas?” Jimmy breathed. “Explain it to me.”

The under butler was rendered speechless, so thoroughly shocked and frightened as his mind tried to focus on what exactly was currently happening between him and Jimmy. He knew Jimmy was curious and that was understandable, but why was the young man glaring at him so intently, as though he was transfixed on Thomas. It was impossible, ridiculous and it couldn’t be true. This was a dream, not reality and Thomas was simply lying peacefully, alone, in his comfortable cot.

“Tell me why you like men.” Jimmy whispered as he tugged hard on Thomas’s hair.

Thomas swallowed and blurted out, “Because I think they’re beautiful.”

Jimmy smiled at him kindly and nodded slowly, “well that makes sense since I think women are beautiful, doesn’t it?”

“What do you like about women?” Thomas squeaked.

Jimmy’s smile grew and he turned away to gaze dreamily at the wall. “I love how soft they are, both in looks and in body. I love the curve of their waist, their breasts and the smooth skin at the top of their thighs. I like the intelligence of women, the clever one’s and how quick witted they can be. I love how most women smell very sweet, even when they don’t wear perfume. I like to see them dancing in their sequined dresses as their keep an eye on their champagne. I like their voices, especially when a woman has a sweet singing voice. I like their cunts as well, seriously. They’re soft and warm and accommodating when you make love to a woman and I think that’s beautiful.”

“Cunt is an awful word, don’t say it.” Thomas teased. “It must be nice though, loving a woman.”

“Well then, tell me what you like about men?” Jimmy ordered as he began to play with Thomas’s hair again.

“I like their strength,” Thomas began in a soft whisper. “I like how men smell, how their smell is stronger and grittier than most women’s. I like their bodies and how firm they are, especially when someone has their arms around me. I like their broad shoulders, their jaws and I like a man who has a nice voice. I like clever men, but I prefer it when they are kind. I don’t really have a type as some say, although I do typically prefer working class men.”

Jimmy nodded above him, “yes, you’ve told me before.”

Thomas smiled shyly and nodded, “yeah well, it’s true. I just like men. I can’t explain it because I just _do_.”

Ever since he was twelve years old, Thomas had spent hours trying to understand why he was different. Why did he prefer men to women – in fact, why had he never felt attracted to a woman? He could appreciate women’s beauty and he did not mind female company but he had never loved another woman, not in a sexual or a romantic sense. Lady Sybil had been sweet, beautiful, courageous and so very kind to him but despite how he tried, he couldn’t feel anything for her that came close to romantic love. He loved her like a friend, a sister in his own distant way and he was sure that until Tom Branson came along, Lady Sybil had something of a crush on him, just like Daisy had when she was younger. He enjoyed female flirtation but Thomas enjoyed being praised by all for his looks, always had done. He could remember one guest who had stayed, an old Lady Chesterfield, who had told Lady Grantham _“now that young man is a perfect footman, tall with excellent posture, as well as wonderfully handsome.”_ William did not receive any compliments that night so Thomas had strutted about like a smug peacock until the poor lad had looked sick.

Jimmy was still smiling at him and twirling Thomas’s hair between his fingers. “That’s alright then. What did you like about me then? I’ve always wondered.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas frowned before the footman cut him off.

“It’s alright, I won’t say anything until you’re finished. Oh you’re blushing!” He laughed softly as he watched the under butler’s face darken.

“It’s not funny, Jimmy, I’m not talking about it.” Thomas grumbled moodily. He was not crossing this territory, not when he still felt an ache in his chest whenever he saw the man smile.

Jimmy shifted his body slightly so he could lean against his arm fully as he continued to play with Thomas’s hair with his left hand. “I don’t mean to upset you, Thomas. I just want to know. Did you like me just because I’m handsome?”

Thomas turned his face away in shame but the pressure from his scalp was removed when suddenly, Jimmy gripped onto Thomas’s chin to turn the under butler’s face towards him. Another shiver of arousal ran up Thomas’s spine as he felt his cock stir beneath his trousers.

“Thomas, tell me why you liked me.” Jimmy whispered. He held the under butler’s stare and refused to look away, only blinking when Thomas broke their eye contact.

The under butler shut his eyes for a moment and forced himself to pause so that he could calm his mind. He needed to focus, to see nothing but a dark void as he concentrated on his breathing whilst his thoughts deflated like burst balloons. This was the present, reality, not a dream from which he could awaken. He would need to open his eyes and meet the gaze of the handsome, blonde man above him; the blonde man that he could no longer continue to deny his unrequited love for. _‘Be brave,_ ’ a voice in his head hissed, ‘ _be brave.’_ Slowly, Thomas opened his eyes.

“J-Jimmy,” he stuttered softly, “I did like you because you were handsome. At first, I didn’t really feel anything for you; I only saw that you had good looks. It wasn’t until I discovered how clever you were and how sharp your wit is that I began to really pay attention. You became the flame to my moth and I couldn’t pull myself away from you as I was so captivated by you. You became more than just handsome because frankly, handsome I can give or take, it doesn’t always interest me – except for the stupid time when I made a move on a Turkish guest who I thought was pretty. He was but I didn’t really care, I was just annoyed at the Duke…we had fallen out just before his arrival. You were more than a pretty face because you were…you were brilliant to me. I fell for you. I was confused and stupid and I made the most ridiculous, pathetic decision ever and I almost lost _everything_ , all for you…so there, I liked you for all of those reasons.” He stopped immediately as he felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes and he did not want Jimmy to see him crying over the daft unrequited feelings he still harboured for the footman. He turned his face away again before he spat, “well know you know and it’s late so you –“

“Thomas, shh!” Jimmy shushed him softly, “I’m sorry Thomas, I didn’t know that…oh I didn’t know that you felt that strongly. I’m a bastard; I see why you were so hurt when I kissed you. Please don’t be upset, I can see that you are.

“It’s bloody embarrassing, Jimmy!” Thomas snapped in a scathing voice. “It’s fucking embarrassing – I feel pathetic, alright?”

“Stop it, Thomas! You aren’t pathetic for god’s sake, you’re human.” Jimmy snapped firmly. “Come here!” He ordered as he reached down to hoist Thomas upwards, pulling him into an embrace. He chuckled when the under butler made a small squeak of protest as Jimmy held him in a ridiculous position: Jimmy’s arms were wrapped around Thomas’s chest, causing the other man to lie awkwardly against his chest with his legs draped over Jimmy’s knees. The footman planted a swift kiss onto the top of the under butler’s head, causing him to laugh again; he felt as though he was holding an overgrown teddy bear.

“What the hell are you doing?” Thomas hissed grumpily. “We’ll look ridiculous.”

Jimmy giggled and pulled the man closer to hold him tight against his chest. “I don’t care, you’re having a hug. Men can hug, Thomas.”

His friend huffed loudly and tried to squirm away from the footman’s tight grip. “Honestly, you’re an idiot. Let me go, my arse hurts.”

Jimmy had to muffle his laughter by pressing his face into the crown of Thomas’s head. “You shouldn’t have had your John going at you so roughly, should you?”

“Pfft.” Thomas scoffed. “Let me go.”

“No,” Jimmy chuckled. “You’re like a teddy bear.”

“Am I hell like a teddy bear!” snapped Thomas.

Jimmy finally released Thomas but not before he gave his chest on last squeeze. He watched the man settle himself back into a comfortable position, finding his friend’s groans of protest amusing. He smiled at his friend who was lying down again, resting his head on Jimmy’s thighs. The footman froze and forced his body to remain as still as possible. His cock was still hard, although he was no longer as pent up as he was before from looking Thomas directly in his eyes. If the under butler moved his head centimetres to the right, Jimmy was done for. Thankfully the blankets were covering his middle at the moment so Thomas was oblivious to his situation. ‘ _You should leave,_ ’ said his conscience, ‘ _you need to sort yourself out._ ’ Just as Jimmy was about to announce his departure, he suddenly realised that if he stood up from the bed, firstly he would have to move Thomas so he would likely whack the poor man with his cock somehow, which would be horrendously embarrassing! He would also give poor Thomas very confusing signals regarding Jimmy’s sexuality and that was no fair. Secondly, even if Jimmy avoided nudging Thomas with his stupid bloody half-hard penis, he would have to cross the room and the under butler would see his arousal anyway. “ _Shit!_ ”

“Can I sleep here with you tonight? I don’t want to get caught at this hour, do I?” Jimmy whispered, “Unless it would be too uncomfortable for you – I won’t be offended.”

Thomas shook his head and shut his eyes. “No, I don’t mind. I’ll set my alarm earlier so that you can sneak out. If you get caught though Kent, I’ll kill you!”

The under butler lifted his head from Jimmy’s legs as the footman braced himself for an outcry of _‘oh Jimmy, you’re hard!”_ He half shut his eyes as Thomas concentrated on arranging himself in the bed and prayed to god, to Jesus, to the angels, even to the damn devil himself that the under butler would not accidently brush against ‘Little Jimmy’. He waited anxiously until the other man finally settled down, lying on his side with his back to Jimmy.

“G’night Jimmy,” Thomas yawned as he pulled the blankets higher so they reached his chin.

“Goodnight,” Jimmy whispered in a strained voice. He remained in his sitting position for a few seconds, hoping that Thomas would begin to drift into light sleep. When the under butler didn’t move for a few minutes, Jimmy decided that it would be safe for him to lie down without accidentally startling Thomas with his cock. Just as be lowered himself down, the damn man decided to roll over to ask, “Jimmy, aren’t you going to lie down?”

It happened. Jimmy’s half-hard penis collided with Thomas’s arm. His friend’s arm was currently lying against his penis. Thomas Barrow could feel his prick.

“Well then,” Thomas snorted. The under butler quickly pulled his arm away and turned his back on Jimmy again. “I won’t say another word, Kent.”

Thank the heavens for darkness because Jimmy knew his face would be as red as a tomato. That was a sight he would never want to see. “It’s – it was all the talk about –“

“Shh, don’t worry about it. Just go to sleep.” Thomas whispered, silently thanking the stars that he had _deflated_.

“Alright,” Jimmy swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Go to sleep, I’m tired. Don’t be poking me in the back with that, mind you!” Thomas hissed.

Jimmy tutted and thumped him between his shoulder blades.

 

A faint golden glow streamed into Thomas’s room as the sun rose over the emerald Yorkshire hills to greet the new day. Unable to sooth his mind, Jimmy had drifted in and out of light, brief periods of sleep throughout the night whilst Thomas had laid still next him. The footman slowly pulled himself into an upright position so he could lean over Thomas to read the time on the small alarm clock. It was quarter to four in the morning. Knowing that he needed to return to his own room, he reluctantly slipped out of the bed carefully as he was able so that he did not disturb the peaceful man next to him. Padding silently towards the door, Jimmy quickly turned to give Thomas one final glance before he left. The under butler’s legs were tucked close to his waist and the back of his hair was in complete disarray, like a child’s when the first wake up in the morning. The image of the sleeping man before him was sweet, innocent and if Jimmy had any artistic ability, he would have been tempted to sketch the man so that this small moment could be preserved forever. Smiling to himself, Jimmy turned and opened the door to leave when the bugger of a thing decided to squeak.

“Hmm,” Thomas mumbled sleepily.

Jimmy immediately closed the door in case Thomas was going to speak as his voice could wake the other servants.

“Shh, it’s just me.” Jimmy said softly, “I’m going back to my room.”

Thomas rolled onto his back and sat up so he could face the footman. He rubbed his right eye as he whispered, “don’t, you should stay here longer. If you leave my room closer to the time when we all wake up, you can use the excuse that you’ve just woken up to go to the toilet. If you wake anyone up now, you’ll be questioned about whether you’re sleeping properly and Carson will keep an eye on you all day.”

“Always sharp as always, aren’t we?” Jimmy smirked. He always found himself in awe of Thomas’s quick thinking and his tactfulness during moments like this.

The under butler yawned and lay back down, patting the space next to him in the bed. Jimmy tiptoed across the room and slid carefully back into the bed. The pair had to readjust their positions as they couldn’t fit together side by side so Thomas ended up laying his head across Jimmy’s chest. Despite the time that he passed since the day of the fair, Thomas still struggled to keep calm whenever he made physical contact with Jimmy. An accidental brush of their hands set his heart racing so he was proud of himself for not panicking as he lay calmly against the young man. He almost purred with delight when Jimmy’s nimble fingers made their way into his hair again to pet him, just as he had done during the night. Although he knew it was a ridiculous childish thought, Thomas wished he could transform into a cat so that he could lie across Jimmy and purr without ever fearing any serious repercussions should anyone else stumble across them. Cats were clever and agile, as well as clever and Thomas had always admired them. When he was a child, he used to like playing with their old neighbour’s cat, a little black wisp of a thing that never scratched him. Yes, Thomas wanted to be a small black cat so he could be cuddled and petted and he would ever be hated or scorned by anyone, except for dog lovers like Lord Grantham. How lucky animals are.

As though he had read Thomas’s mind, Jimmy suddenly chuckled, “you’re like a bloody cat.”

Thomas just smiled and closed his eyes as he whispered, “go back to sleep for a bit, Jimmy.”

He heard the footman snort but for Thomas, the twittering birds outside and Jimmy’s breathing became white noise to him, as he was lulled to sleep by the gentle rising and falling of the footman’s chest. He could have sworn that a light kiss was planted against the crown of his head but he was too tired to notice and too calm to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that nobody will be too frustrated that Jimmy and Thomas haven't 'boinked' just yet.  
> A lovely reader used that word in a comment on the previous chapter and it made me chuckle for about five minutes.
> 
> The boys WILL come together soon, I just really want to take my time with them.  
> Inch by inch, we're getting there.  
> Jimmy's feelings and his own frustration are building, I promise you. He still has a few bones to pick with Thomas regarding John, the little git, so we'll just have to see what's in store in the next chapter.
> 
> Thank for every kudos and thank you for every comment.  
> I am very touched by the support I've recieved for this story as it's my first ever fanfiction.  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you!


	12. So Close, Yet So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of weakness for Jimmy and Thomas could lead to disaterous consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning/afternoon/evening/night.
> 
> I've managed to write this chapter quite speedily so I am uploading it early.  
> If I can write the next chapter as quickly, I could try to push myself to post the next chapter by Friday - that would be a miracle though so let's not get our hopes up.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Tuesday was normally Thomas’s least favourite day of the entire week. Sunday’s were his favourite as they were always somewhat more relaxed and the staff often found that they had an extra hour or so the spare in the evening as the Crawley’s retired to their rooms a little earlier than usual. Monday was therefore slightly busier so Mrs Patmore always tried to ensure that the servant’s got a good hearty breakfast down their necks to keep their spirits up for the long day ahead. The meal nearly always gave the staff a little booster, made them slightly more chipper, meaning that the long day passed quite painlessly. Carson was typically in a good mood on Monday. Tuesday on the other hand, that was the day when everyone felt a dip in their moods. The gentle pace of Sunday was over; the Monday rush had passed which made Tuesday’s feel rather bleak. The weather was often against them on a Tuesday as well which dampened everyone’s spirits further. Even the Crawley’s seemed to find Tuesday’s a little dull. For all the day had a negative history, today’s Tuesday was a very pleasant Tuesday, at least for Thomas. The sun was shining brightly and it was very warm, so warm that the staff had been ordered to open windows throughout the house so that none of the rooms would be stuffy. Sweet, honey breezes glided in from the golden sun rays and everyone, from the servants to the family, seemed to be in high spirits, even Carson (to a degree).

Ever since the night recent night when Jimmy had shared Thomas’s bed with him, the footman seemed to pay more attention to him. He always beamed at Thomas when they passed each other in the corridor and if he instructed Jimmy on a task, he received no complaints or inappropriate attitude from the younger man. Jimmy always tried to sit next to Thomas at dinner and they even developed a subtle way of secretly communicating with each other. If Alfred was saying or doing something idiotic and foolish, either Thomas or Jimmy would nudge each other’s ankle twice. If Jimmy said something especially biting or witty, Thomas would tap the top of his foot. If it was the other way round and it was Thomas who said something humorous or catty, Jimmy would gently squeeze the top of his knee. The under butler couldn’t bring himself to return that particular gesture as he still felt as though it wasn’t his place to touch the man so intimately, despite the fact that they had already slept next to each other twice and Jimmy had drunkenly kissed him. He had opened up to Jimmy about his life and his relationships but he still couldn’t comfortably touch Jimmy without feeling as though he was doing something wrong. Every time he laughed with Jimmy, every time he sat next to the younger man, he felt as though Carson or Mrs Hughes or Alfred or _someone_ was watching him and making vulgar assumptions about his intentions. Whenever he thought about this, he felt a cold wave tide over him and his stomach churned. A small part of him wished he could return to his hall boys days when he had become hardened and ambitious, completely ignorant of the adult love and lust that had broken away pieces of his heart. The first betrayal he had ever experienced came from Philip, the Duke of Crowborough. The first time his heart was broken was when Edward Courtney, the handsome blind solider, committed suicide after he was told he would need to leave Downton hospital. He and Lady Sybil had fought tooth and nail to keep him but alas, it was not meant to be and poor Edward cut his wrists. Still to this day, Thomas felt a deep pang in his chest when he thought of the blind man. He never found out if the solider had felt anything towards him, even friendship. Finally, the third betrayal Thomas experienced came from himself – the night he kissed Jimmy. He had always kept himself in check, bar the one slip up he had with Kemal Pamuk. Ever since he was twelve, Thomas knew the risks that came with loving a man. He had made a promise to himself when he became a hall boy that he would never fall for another man, he would only ever allow someone to fall for him so that he would face no repercussions. It wasn’t the fault of a young, handsome boy if a man perused him unholy intentions. Of course, Thomas became the fool who chased a handsome younger man and almost payed a serious price. Only by the skin of his teeth was he saved and by heavens, Thomas would never forget it.

The under butler was lost deep within his thoughts but he found that his distracted mind meant that the afternoon passed quicker for him as he completed his tasks. Every so often, he took a moment to enjoy a gust of warm air blowing over his face when he passed a window. His work today was fairly simple and he found the routine enjoyable. Striding through the empty library, Thomas concluded that he had to put aside his feelings of disappointment, embarrassment and longing so that he could focus on being a good friend to Jimmy on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon.

He exited the library and hurried towards the servant’s staircase so he could quickly pick up his post from the servant’s hall before Mr Carson came to fetch him. John Brady had promised to write to him so he hoped that he could hide his letter before any of the other servants could ask him questions about his mysterious friend. As the tall man swooped down the stairs, he overheard two voices discussing something in hushed tones around the corner. He paused so that he could try to eavesdrop on the conversation and quickly recognised the two voices: Mrs Patmore and Mrs Hughes. He assumed the two women to were chatting about something dull so he made to continue his journey to the dining hall but his attention was grabbed by Mrs Patmore whispering about Edna. He slowly moved to the left side of the stairs so that he could be stand out of two women’s line of sight but he did carefully peer around the corner so that he could see their facial expressions.

“That new maid is as sharp as a whip, I can tell you that.” The cook muttered disapprovingly.

Mrs Hughes pursed her lips before she quietly asked, “Is that a bad thing?” Despite her question, the knowing glint in the housekeeper’s eye told Thomas that her remark was somewhat rhetorical.

Mrs Patmore’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her cap as she leaned closer to the other woman, “well I just think that we ought to keep an eye on that madam. She’s got a look about her.”

Mrs Hughes couldn’t help smiling at the cook’s comment. “What do you mean she has a look about her?”

“In all honesty, she reminds me of Thomas. She’s got that look. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.” Mrs Patmore concluded with a firm nod and crossed arms.

“ _Cheers_ ,” Thomas thought to himself as he quietly turned to climb a few steps before he made a show of walking back down again so that the housekeeper and the cook would not know that he had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

Upstairs, Jimmy was skiving from his duties for a few minutes in one of the empty guest rooms. He would use the excuse that he was airing out the room should anyone enter so he kept close to the wide window. He rather liked the guest room as a beautiful view and plenty of sunlight was able to stream in from the large window, which made Jimmy wonder why this room wasn’t used as often as the other guest rooms. The window was perfectly positioned so that whoever looked out could see the tip of a large hill between the trees. It was a unique perspective as the other rooms of the house were not able to look out onto that exact hill. The large hill looked as though it could dip into a small valley or perhaps a small brook. The footman vowed that he could discover what lay beyond the gap in the trees on his next day off.

Suddenly the door to the guest room opened behind him and Tom Branson burst into the room. Jimmy almost leapt out his skin at the startling intrusion but he was relieved to find that it wasn’t Mr Carson.

“Are you in here my – oh, good afternoon Jimmy.” Tom greeted as he politely smiled at the surprised footman, although he was clearly as shocked as Jimmy to find the room occupied.

“Good afternoon Mr Branson, can I help you with anything?”

The Irishman smiled bashfully, “I’m looking for Sybbie, we’re playing hide and seek. Have you seen her run into any of the rooms? She’s a clever one, just like her mother.” A spark of pride lit up Tom Branson’s eyes as he likened his daughter to her late mother and Jimmy found it quite touching. He would have to tell Thomas later.

“No Sir, I haven’t seen Miss Sybbie anywhere.”

Tom nodded and gave Jimmy another smile, “Well if you see her, let me know where she is. Don’t you hide from Carson for too long.”

“Yes Sir,” Jimmy smirked whilst Tom chuckled as he shut the door quietly.

After Mr Branson left, the young footman became momentarily transfixed by the closed door. The twinkle that had appeared in Tom Branson’s eye stirred something inside of Jimmy and he felt a knot in his stomach when he realised Mr Branson still felt an undying devotion to his late wife. Personally, he had never cast Lady Sybil a second glance when she alive, let alone communicated with her so Jimmy would never be able to say whether he had admired the young woman or not. He had acknowledged her beauty, as he had done for both of her sister’s, but she was married and she had never interested him anyway. He had liked the woman, for nobody could dislike Lady Sybil Crawley. Thomas certainly adored her, Jimmy knew that much. She was the one member of the Crawley family whom the under butler felt genuine loyalty towards and that was high praise for anyone as Thomas Barrow did not trust easily. Jimmy had never felt any particular devotion to anyone, be it love or loyalty, until the day he walked into Thomas’s room and saw the poor man’s cut, bruised face. Thomas still had a small, faint scar just below his left cheekbone but it was barely noticeable. As Jimmy stood silently in the empty guest room, he wondered what it would be like to feel such strong emotions for someone, like Tom Branson did for Lady Sybil. Jimmy wondered if Thomas felt such strong passion for him? It could be his own vanity but Jimmy was sure that if he told Thomas to jump off a cliff, he would. He would likely do it without question and without thought, just as he had done when he dived into the fight between Jimmy and the gang of thugs. Thomas thought he was a coward for holding a lighter up in a soggy trench so that a German could blow his hand off. Jimmy knew that if anyone was a coward it was him as he had left Thomas to be beaten at the fair.

That evening, Thomas played cards with Alfred and, surprisingly, Anna at the staff table whilst Jimmy played a light, cheerful tune on the piano. Daisy, Ivy and the rest of the maids sat and quietly watched Jimmy play, although Daisy occasionally turned to Alfred to offer him encouragement during the card game. She received sweet smiles from the redheaded footman but soon Daisy became irritated when Alfred kept shooting Ivy wistful looks. Soon the card game drew to a close and Thomas was declared the winner whilst Daisy and Edna applauded him.

“Well played, Mr Barrow.” Edna said as she gave him a small smile.

“Thank you, Edna.” Thomas replied in a cool tone. He wasn’t fooled by the young woman’s act of sweetness because he saw no warmth in her eyes. Mrs Patmore was correct when she said that she was as sharp as a whip for there was definitely an ambitious edge to the young maid, albeit a more deceitful sort of ambition than the likes of someone like Gwen who had left Downton to become a secretary. Thomas didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her either.

“You play your cards well,” the maid offered as she leaned closer towards him so that she wouldn’t be overheard easily by the others.

“As I’m sure you do.” Thomas quipped in a very final tone, putting an end to his conversation with her.

The maid raised her eyebrows haughtily before turning away. As soon as she faced the other’s again, she quickly melted her smirk into a more genuine smile and returned her attention to Jimmy who was now playing Beethoven. Thomas leant back in his chair and slowly peeled his eyes away from enigmatic woman so he could organise his cards into a neat pile. Every so often, Jimmy grinned at him from the piano and Thomas always returned his smiles with a slight nod of his head, for he feared that an overly enthusiastic display would cause the other members of staff to think that his friendship with the handsome could be a little too close for comfort. Thomas didn’t want Jimmy to have to face any hassle from a concerned servant and he certainly didn’t want to be dragged into Carson’s office again to be accused of perusing the footman inappropriately. He could picture Carson’s furious expression now as he cried, _“you should be horsewhipped!”_

“Have you got a favourite tune, Mr Barrow?” Jimmy called from the piano.

The under butler snapped his head up and had to stare at his friend for a moment before he realised he had not answered Jimmy’s question. “Er…I can’t think of one off the top of my head.”

“Fair enough,” Jimmy shrugged before he began to play a jolly, upbeat jazz number.

Ivy tapped her foot to the tune as she sighed longingly, “this makes me wish I were at a dance.”

Alfred almost jumped out of his seat from excitement as he leant forward, “I’ll give you a dance, Ivy.”

“Oh, I’m alright Alfred, thank you.” Ivy said gratefully as she nodded at the redheaded footman.

Ever since he had messed her about, Thomas had always felt guilty when it came to Daisy and as he watched the kitchen maid’s expression droop slightly, he felt as though he owed it to the young girl to try and look out for her. He knew that the lass liked Alfred and that the dozy footman had even liked her to begin with until Ivy came to Downton. He pitied the brunette so he gave her a nudge with his arm, which startled her.

“Alfred,” Thomas called as he kept his eyes locked on Daisy. “Why don’t you dance with Daisy?”

The kitchen maid gaped at him and dropped her chin down to hide the faint blush that bloomed across her pale cheeks.

“Would you like to dance Daisy?” Alfred smiled politely.

“You could show him the Grizzly Bear,” Thomas teased as Anna and Mr Bates laughed softly at the memory of the under butler dancing with Daisy.

The kitchen maid looked up at the footman and nodded gently. “Oh, go on then!”

She giggled as Alfred held his arm out to her, which she accepted before the pair began to dance at the side of the table. Mr Mosely and Anna smiled fondly at the pair but Mr Bates caught Thomas’s eye to give him an amused look that said, ‘I see what you did there, Mr Barrow’. Thomas only smirked at the valet and gave him a slight shrug before he lit a cigarette smugly.

A merry hour passed as the servants continued to enjoy the music and the occasional sing-song that Mr Mosely had started every so often (except for Thomas, although it was mostly out of spite towards Mosely rather than the singing). Soon Mr and Mrs Bates bid everyone goodnight and Mr Carson marched into the room to advise that it was late, therefore it was time for everyone to go to bed. Mrs Patmore bustled in to chase Ivy and Daisy away, whilst everyone else began to filter out of the dining room on their own accord. Once again, as always, Jimmy and Thomas were the only remaining servants in the dining hall. As soon as the two hall boys raced each other through the door, Jimmy hopped up from the piano stool and sauntered over to the under butler who was preoccupied with his cigarette packet.

“Is something wrong with your smokes?” Jimmy asked as he threw himself into the chair next to his friend.

Thomas frowned and shook his head, “I’ve got ink or something all down the left side of it. How on earth have I managed that?”

Jimmy snorted and gave the man a cheeky smile, “well I won’t know if you don’t.”

“Oh shush,” Thomas tutted as he flapped a hand at the footman. He shook his head at his soiled cigarette packed before he shoved it back into his breast pocket with a sigh.

Opposite him, Jimmy began to swing on the back legs of his chair as he watched Thomas silently. He wanted to ask his friend for more information about his trip to York because ever since their last late night chat, Jimmy couldn’t bring himself to accept Thomas’s assurance that John Brady had been _nice_. In Jimmy’s mind, the steward was clever and had tricks up his sleeves to lure handsome men into his room when his brother’s family was conveniently away. Nobody was completely good if they immediately wanted to jump into bed with someone.

Thomas yawned and stretched his arms out to the side. “You know,” he began mid-yawn, “you’ve never told me about Lady Anstruther, at least not properly. I told you about the Duke.”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows and smirked, “well you told me the basics of what happened between you and the Duke.”

“I told you more or less everything,” Thomas disagreed as he shook his head. “What more can I tell you about him?”

Jimmy smirked and folded his arms on the table. “I’ve forgotten anyway so tell me again. He approached you at a party or something?”

Thomas tipped his chin up in a display of defiance. “Tell me about Anstruther first because I still find it hilarious given how old she is.”

“Oi!” Jimmy cried as he gave Thomas a hard kick to the shin.

“Ow!” Thomas laughed, “she’s still a smart woman, I can give her that.”

Jimmy smirked and swung back on his chair again. “I became a footman in her household and that’s how she noticed me. I enjoyed swanning around the place because I felt all smug in my new livery. She taught me how to play the piano and she was a good laugh. I didn’t fancy doing too much work so I let her flirt with me and all of that to get in her good books. She wanted to take me to bed and I was up for it – “

Thomas snorted, “oh you would be!”

Jimmy shrugged, “yep, I was up for it so we had an affair. She got to moon after me and I got an easier time than the other’s. I was seeing a maid called Jenny on the side anyway so overall, I had a good time there.”

Thomas just stared at his friend in disbelieving amusement and gave him a smirk.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Mr Barrow! Can you honestly say that you had no ulterior motives when you were in bed with that Duke?” Jimmy jeered as he kicked the under butler again.

Thomas shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his packet. “Alright, I did have a picture in my head that I would become his valet and that because I was the Duke’s lover, I would automatically be treat better and that he would take places, all of that nonsense. I built myself up for it and I sat here at Downton dreaming of the day that bloody Philip, the Duke of Crowborough would come up and offer me a position.” He shook his head and smiled at the nostalgia of his silly past notions.

Jimmy reached across the table to place a comforting hand on top of Thomas’s. “It’s alright to admit that the Duke hurt you. I didn’t give a toss about Anstruther at all, not like that. She’s a good reason for why I came here because she was getting too clingy. I wanted to meet new women and learn more in another big house. I was trying for London ideally but my accent was too rough. I’m not taking any elocution lessons, sod all of that.”

Thomas smiled sadly and moved his hand away from Jimmy’s grasp. “Like I said to you before, I was bitter over Philip for a long time. It was the second biggest disappointment of my life.”

“What was the first?” Jimmy asked quietly.

Thomas laughed bitterly, “my mum dying and my brother leaving without saying goodbye when I was small.”

The younger man gave a low whistle and swung on his chair legs again. “Mine was when my parents died too, I suppose. I never really thought about it too much. I was looked after my aunty until I went into service. I still write to her and my cousins.”

“We’re two orphans.” Thomas sighed.

Jimmy’s chair fell forwards with a sharp thud. “Isn’t your dad alive, and your sister?”

“My sister and my brother never tried to contact me after they left home. Maybe they did, who knows? My dad probably told them what I was and they might have decided never to bother finding me.” Thomas muttered darkly.

Jimmy frowned and watched Thomas carefully for a few moments. When speaking about his family, a heavy dark cloud always seemed to form over the under butler, unless he was discussing his mother. It was tragic to see someone hold onto such strong feelings of resentment, especially when such feelings were directed at one’s own family members. He decided that he wouldn’t press Thomas for any further details as he didn’t want their conversation to become too sad, not tonight.

“Well…that’s their loss. Family is family and if they don’t understand that then bully them, you have all of us here at Downton anyway.” Jimmy said firmly in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Thomas’s lit cigarette hung between his red lips as the man snorted. “As if this lot would consider _me_ family.”

“Hey come on,” Jimmy urged the man gently. “I’m not keen on most of them but even I feel a bit of a reluctant connection, just like a family. Do you know what you are, Mr Barrow?”

“What?” Thomas mumbled moodily as he inhaled on his cigarette.

“You are the moody sixteen-year-old cousin out of the servant’s. You’re at that age, as my aunt would say. You’re the defiant young lad who thinks that they are so very mature because they’re one of the older kids but for all you grumpily deny it, you’re not an adult yet. That’s what you are. You’re not exactly one of the sons and daughters so nobody can tell you off properly but you’re still family. That’s you.” Jimmy nodded.

Thomas smirked, “so what are you then?”

“Me and Alfred are the squabbling fourteen year olds or something.” Jimmy laughed, “We cause all the trouble!”

Thomas chuckled and shook his head as Jimmy smiled fondly at him, pleased to see some joy return to the under butler’s eyes. The older man’s eyes were downcast as he looked at his cigarette between his fingers so Jimmy would admire Thomas’s long, pretty eyelashes. They fanned out against the man’s cheek delicately, reminding Jimmy of old paintings by the likes of Thomas Ralph Spence and Leonardo da Vinci. Following the man’s eyelashes, Jimmy traced the fine cheekbones that sculpted Thomas’s pale face. His gaze then turned to his straight, sharp nose and finally, down to the man’s full red lips that currently had a cigarette between them. When Jimmy had placed his lips against Thomas’s he had felt how soft they were, although the skin closer to his teeth was slightly harder, possibly from Thomas biting his bottom lip and his cigarettes. He wondered if the inside of Thomas’s mouth would be as soft, especially the man’s small pink tongue. His friend had very white, straight teeth which was quite unusual as everyone else’s teeth had a slight tint of yellow. Suddenly the man’s lips puckered as Thomas inhaled on his cigarette and a stream of grey smoke filtered over his cherry lips, which caused Jimmy to swallow quickly. The footman had the urge to reach his hand forward again, only this time he would slowly drag his fingers across Thomas’s bottom lip. It was would likely be a beautiful sight and Thomas would part his lips slightly; perhaps he would even gently pulls Jimmy’s finger into his mouth with his white teeth.

“What you looking at?” Thomas asked loudly, interrupting Jimmy’s fantasy.

Jimmy blinked and smiled at the man opposite him as a blush crept into his cheeks. “Nothing, I was just thinking about things.”

“What?” Thomas asked, his voice muffled by his cigarette.

The footman swallowed before he blurted out, “how do you know that your John bloke is really nice?” As soon as he finished his outburst, Jimmy could feel his face becoming hotter and he knew that he would be as red as Mrs Patmore’s tomatoes.

“Jimmy,” Thomas sighed deeply. “I told you the last time that John didn’t trick me or even seduce me exactly!”

Jimmy scoffed and flopped backwards against his chair. “Thomas, why on earth would you have gone to bed with the man if he didn’t seduce you?”

The under butler gave Jimmy a stern look as he inhaled on his cigarette. He eyed the footman suspiciously for a few moments more before he huffed and shook his head. “He didn’t need to seduce me because it just happened. He was looking at me and I could tell that he wanted to do more than talk but do you what, Jimmy? It was _me_ that let it happen. I let him kiss me and the rest just followed as you’d expect.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened for a moment before he quickly looked away, embarrassed. “Well – no, I can’t expect it, can I? I don’t know what went on. How did it start, you and him carrying on?”

Thomas had lifted his cigarette to his mouth again but upon hearing Jimmy’s words, his hand froze in mid-movement. “What, do you want to talk you through exactly what happened?”

“Yeah actually, I want to see if I can spot what that fella was up to with you.” Jimmy verified as he nodded his head, “I do.”

Thomas stared at him in confused shock before he lent back in his chair and cross his arms. “Very well,” he said in a cold voice, “I just told you that John kissed me. We were talking and laughing when I could see him looking at me, admiring me. I could see that he wanted to kiss me but he was too polite, for your information Mr Kent, to just go straight in for one. So I gave him a _look_ , you must know what a look can mean in these situations?”

Jimmy straightened his posture and crossed his arms defensively. “Aye, go on.”

Thomas smirked and took a drag from his cigarette before he continued, “So John lent forward and kissed me. That’s all he did until I let him kiss me more, you see? So that went on for a bit until I end up in his lap and he’s just kissing me –“

“Yeah, he pulled you onto him, did he?” Jimmy snorted, “There’s one trick.”

“Actually it was me who started to initiate that because I liked his hand in my hair.” Thomas interrupted. “One thing led to another and I decided to get down onto my knees. I told you how much I like pleasuring a man, didn’t I?” Thomas asked in mock sweetness as he tilted his head to the side, eyeing the squirming footman opposite him mischievously. The tables were turning tonight and he could sense that it was he who wielded all of the power tonight. He could feel a burst of adrenaline flowing through his veins as Jimmy tried to remain composed whilst he listened to the older man.

Jimmy had to look away momentarily again before he could look the under butler in the eye. “Yes Thomas, you did say.”

Thomas snorted and continued, “Well John enjoyed that, he really enjoyed it and he let me do anything I wanted throughout. I was the one who teased him, me, and I was in charge. Once I finished, it was only then that John took over.”

Jimmy’s pupils had become very dark but the under butler naively took this as a sign of frustration from the footman, not lust.

“So there you go.” Thomas smiled as he privately congratulated himself.

The footman continued to stare at Thomas until he realised that the under butler was not going to continued speaking without prompt, “yeah, and?” Jimmy asked as he furrowed his brow. “That’s not all, is it? He’s taken over and then what? Did you just lie passively on your stomach for him?”

“Jimmy!” Thomas snapped as he glared across the table at his annoyed friend.

The footman just shrugged, “we said we were going to be honest.”

Thomas sighed again as he frowned at the younger man. “I don’t see how being honest with you means that I need to describe to you every single aspect of my sex life.”

“I’ll tell you about mine.” Jimmy offered.

Thomas couldn’t help grinning despite his irritation. “I think I’ve already got a good enough picture about yours, Mr Kent.”

The footman leaned forwards and rested his elbows on the dining table whilst he stifled a yawn. “Look,” he started before he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m tired. I just want to understand all of this, you know? It’s new to me. I suppose I just keep imagining this John fella as some smart mouthed git who’s all clever and he got you into his bed all clever like –“

“It was my decision to sleep with him, Jimmy. I had a nice time.” Thomas assured him.

Jimmy squinted at the under butler in a furtive manner before he huffed, “well I just wanted to check out of concern. You were in pain, remember?”

Thomas felt his anger fade slightly as he considered Jimmy’s intense glare. Yes, he supposed his friend was simply concerned for his safety. “As I’m sure I told you, it’s not easy for us, men like me, to bugger each other. There always will be some pain but as I said, it fades away if the person you’re with knows that they’re doing. It’s nice – it’s brilliant actually.”

Jimmy blinked a couple of times before he slowly nodded. “Yes, I forgot that you said that,” he lied. “Well…at least you’re alright and thank god he had a bed.”

Thomas chuckled and gave Jimmy a sincere, fond smile before he was distracted by the memory of John fucking him against the wall. God, his back was probably still bruised but it was bloody worth it!

“He didn’t just bugger on the bed, did he?” Jimmy smirked knowingly. “You’ve got a smile on your face that’s a smile full of mischief!”

Thomas focused on Jimmy again and had to bite his lip to stop himself from snorting. Thankfully the footman no longer appeared to be annoyed or even concerned, he only looked amused. Thomas could see a glint of mischief in Jimmy’s lovely blue eyes as well. “Perhaps,” Thomas sniggered, “he also buggered me against the wall because I asked him to. Does that concern you as well?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and gave Thomas yet another hard kick, only to receive an even harder one in return. The pair engaged in a short foot fight underneath the table until the pair had to stop as their giggles became uncontrollable. If Mr Carson came downstairs to carry out one final check, Thomas and Jimmy would be in serious trouble for causing ‘pandemonium’ or some other ridiculously dramatic crime.

As Jimmy’s heart rate settled after his near suffocation from excessive giggling, the footman slumped his shoulders against the back of chair and sighed. He watched Thomas’s posture relax as he also leaned heavily against his chair. It was these moments that he shared with Thomas that made his life as a servant at Downton bearable. Jimmy had experienced a few moments of pure frustration and anger when he stopped to think about his life and his achievements so far. It was difficult when one realised that they were dedicating their entire damned life to a privileged family who couldn’t even dress themselves. Sometimes Jimmy wanted to scream and just walk away from his job forever so that he could be _free_ , free from his uncomfortable uniform, the demanding senior members of staff and his small room in the damn attic. There were days when all he wanted to do was just walk around in the fresh air, a privilege that families like the Crawley’s took for granted. They could swan off to anywhere should their hearts desire it, whilst the poor, less educated servants had to remain hidden away within secret hallways and dark, cramped rooms. The families could float about in their light coloured clothing on a hot summers day whilst the servants had to remain in black. The Crawley’s could sit down whenever they wanted and sleep in late when they were tired, two seemingly insignificant luxuries that Jimmy sometimes pleaded to heavens for. Tom Branson understood this and Jimmy always appreciated his subtle attempts to help the suffering servants, an example included the time when Jimmy was so hot in the drawing room that he had feared he would faint but thankfully, Mr Branson noticed and casually opened the window closest to Jimmy. The Crawley’s respected their servants and at times even treat them like friends, however, all of the staff knew their place. The wealthy family were clearly ignorant regarding their servant’s secret complaints, or if they were aware, they simply ignored them to save their pride. Even Lady Sybil would likely have conveniently forgotten about a servants plight during a summer garden party or a freezing winter ball. Every servant would have felt the same frustrations as Jimmy, even Mr Carson. Jimmy would give his arm if it meant that he could be granted more days off, especially if the extra days off could be aligned with Thomas’s. They could go for walks, have a drink in the pub or they could go to see a film. Thomas didn’t seem to be particularly interested in films since he never mentioned them so perhaps Jimmy could introduce him to Hollywood. Thomas had mentioned Charlie Chaplin and John Gilbert before so he has seen some films.

“Thomas, do you like going to the pictures?” Jimmy asked as Thomas lit another cigarette.

“Mmm,” Thomas mumbled as he fiddled with his lighter, unable to speak due to the cigarette that he had placed between his teeth. Once he lit his cigarette, Thomas looked up at Jimmy, “I like going to see a film on occasion if it sounds decent. I’m not too fussed about them though, unlike most people.”

Apart from seeking out male company and sleeping with _nice_ stewards, Jimmy did not know what other activities Thomas enjoyed doing on his days off. He knew the under butler nearly always stopped off at a pub for a drink and something to eat but that was a necessity, not a past time. Jimmy always either went to the pictures, a pub or a bar and he would chat up a lass. He enjoyed shopping but only when he needed something. Sometimes he went for a walk somewhere, be it a country track or a wander through a city but he always ended up in a pub. He loved the pictures though, especially comedies. He couldn’t understand how Thomas could be so disinterested.

“Apart from picking up blokes, what do you like to do on your days off? I always seek out somewhere with a bit of life, like the pictures or a pub. I like going to dances and jazz clubs as well. That’s basically what I do. I go shopping when I need something but shopping isn’t fun.” Jimmy rambled as a ran a hand through his curls.

Thomas took a drag from his cigarette whilst he smiled at the footman, “that’s typical of you all of that is. I can’t imagine you doing anything else. Do you ever just go for a walk?”

Jimmy licked his lips and cross his arms as he swung on his chair again, “Sometimes but only for a bit, then I go to a pub or something. I want to have fun and dance to loud music, all of that before I come back here to the dull silence.”

“That’s funny,” Thomas smiled softly, “I’m the complete opposite. I prefer to keep away from pubs and bars unless I want to try and find a man to spend some time with. You think Downton’s quiet?”

Jimmy cocked his head to the side as he nodded, “yeah, don’t you?”

“Yes in the sense that not much happens here but in terms of noise, no I don’t. I constantly hear sounds everywhere, from footsteps, to voices, to other things.” Thomas explained in a quiet voice. “On my days off, I actually prefer to visit a library or a museum, preferably an art gallery or a museum that has a lot of really old artefacts. I like old bookshops as well. Sometimes I just fancy walking around and having time to think. That’s what I do on my half days when I can’t go too far, I just walk around the country lanes where I can be away from everyone.”

Jimmy gazed at Thomas fondly and was delighted when the man blushed slightly as he added, “I suppose I’m a bit of a boring person, eh?”

The footman shook his head and gave Thomas’s ankle a comforting rub with his foot. “No, you’re not boring. Plenty of people like to do all of those things, it’s just that you’re more of a solitary soul – not in a bad way. You like being alone. The thing you don’t like is being lonely but there’s a difference, isn’t there?”

The under butler beamed at him and Jimmy’s heart did a flip in his chest. He had never seen his friend smile so brightly, not even when Thomas had tried valiantly to woo him, bless him. The under butler’s cool grey eyes suddenly appeared to have brighter flecks of blue around his pupils and he looked somewhat healthier as his cheeks were tinted with a dusting of pink, which reminded Jimmy of rose petals.

“Yes, that’s right.” The under butler smiled demurely. “I’ve always tried to understand why I wanted time to myself even though I’ve often felt a little bit isolated here. Until you came along I only had O’Brien but even then I knew that all we had was an alliance, although she was genuinely concerned when I went off to war. You’ve put it perfectly; I want to be alone but not lonely.” The older man laughed but then his cheeks reddened further as he cast his eyes downwards and mumbled, “am I daft?”

“No,” Jimmy spluttered as he rose from his seat to hurry around the table. He quickly pulled the chair out that was next to Thomas and sat down in it so he could be closer to his bashful friend. “You’re not daft at all. I knew you were like that somehow; I suppose it just suits you. It’s not daft, it’s normal. You just like having your own space. There’s people like you and then there’s people like me. You like having friends but your friends, or your one friend in this case – me! Hello. Anyway, your friends need to respect that you need your space. Do I do that?”

A smile dangled at the corner of the under butler’s mouth as he quipped, “you do when you’re not bursting into my room.”

“Sorry,” Jimmy apologised as he gave him a toothy grin, “I’ll remember to stop doing that.”

“It’s fine,” Thomas assured the footman, “Don’t worry.”

Jimmy’s heart galloped as he watched a fresh rosy hue coat the top of pale man’s cheeks. If there was ever a prettier blusher, Jimmy would be damned. He was tempted to stroke his finger down the side of Thomas’s face but he knew that would not be appropriate and Thomas would probably stare at him as though he was a lunatic who had escaped bedlam.

“You know,” Jimmy sighed softly as he continued to observe the other man, “I think I’m really starting to understand you, Mr Barrow.”

The under butler laughed and gave Jimmy’s arm a pat as he joked, “you’re the first ever.”

Jimmy tittered and resumed his previous swinging, awarding him a frown from Thomas. He stuck his tongue out at the older man before Thomas could scold him when suddenly, Jimmy found himself rocking too far backwards. He stretched his arms forward to grasp onto the edge of the table but he couldn’t reach and the the went crashing backwards, hitting the floor hard which a very loud **_thunck!_**

Thomas began to laugh hysterically at the sight of Jimmy lying on the floor, bug-eyed and completely flabbergasted as he spluttered nonsensical sounds of shock. As Jimmy attempted to pull himself to his feet and rub his sore arse at the same time, Thomas couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t even recognise his own laugh as it sounded too light hearted and to _happy_ , but the under butler couldn’t stop. Jimmy cried something along the lines of “ _piss off_ ” but Thomas was too giddy to hear him. He couldn’t remember ever laughing in such a gay manner, not even he was a child and certainly couldn’t remember feelings so breathless and hysterical. Through his giggles, he managed to reach his hand out to try and help Jimmy to his feet but just as Jimmy pulled down, Thomas doubled over again in laughter and found himself falling forward as he toppled out of his chair. The two men lay speechless in a heap as they both struggled to untangle their limbs. The pair made eye contact and for a second, both men stopped moving and simply stared at each other. Thomas found himself lost in the blue pools that bore into him, whilst Jimmy couldn’t tear his eyes away from the under butler’s shocked, exhilarated expression. As the men searched each other’s dilated eyes, Thomas began to splutter again and within seconds, both he and Jimmy collapsed against each other in uncontrollable laughter. Thomas lay his head against Jimmy’s firm chest to steady himself as his eyes streamed with joyful tears and smiled when Jimmy’s arms circled his waist. His lungs felt as though they were burning in his chest and he struggled to breathe without pain but as he rested against his friend, he began to feel calmer as the repetitive rise and fall of Jimmy’s chest soothed him. Long, thin fingers began to thread through his hair, stroking the nape of his neck when suddenly, he felt Jimmy pull him closer so that the footman could nuzzle into his hair. The embrace was lovely and for a brief second, Thomas wondered what it would be like to be held like this every day. Once again, he wished he was a cat. Without thinking, Thomas closed his eyes and basked in the gentle strokes he received from Jimmy, along with the light tickles that he felt when his friend ran his nose across his scalp.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Jimmy whispered against the crown of Thomas’s head.

Thomas snuggled into the crook of the footman’s neck, too tired and calm to think about the embarrassment he usually felt whenever he touched Jimmy or the potential disastrous consequences his overfamiliar actions could bring.

“I may like women but I have eyes you know,” Jimmy said thickly. The footman straightened his back so that he could gaze down at the weary, peaceful man in his arms. “I can see why your John fella likes you so much,” he continued, “I like lasses but you’re quite pretty for a man, do you know that?”

Below him, the under butler’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly as the man’s eyes twitched. Jimmy felt Thomas’s body tense slightly from surprise and possibly fear, so he pulled his friend closer and raised one of his arms so that he could tip Thomas’s chin upwards. Hesitantly the man opened his grey-blue eyes and blinked owlishly at Jimmy as his red lips parted slightly.

“You are, Thomas. You clearly know it considering how many times you check your reflection in the mirrors around the house – don’t think that nobody hasn’t noticed.” Jimmy chuckled softly as his gaze dipped to admire Thomas’s red mouth. “You’re all pale, you’ve got such lovely red lips,” he said thickly as the other man blinked again, “look, those eyelashes!”

Thomas swiftly pulled his face away from Jimmy’s fingers and tucked his chin down so that he could hide his face. Heat inflamed his cheeks as he tried to wriggle away from the footman’s embrace, only to find that his body was pulled even closer to Jimmy. His mouth suddenly felt very dry, as though he had eaten stale bread with no water and he couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word.

“Don’t hide away,” Jimmy bleated, “come on, Thomas.”

Further embarrassment reddened Thomas’s cheeks as tears brimmed in his eyes at Jimmy’s words. He felt like a fool, a pathetic fool who cried over a silly young man. Even young maids didn’t become as distraught as he, which made Thomas feel as though he was two centimetres tall; small and weak. A sudden tug at the back of his hair pulled his head upwards and once again he found himself meeting Jimmy’s unrelenting stare.

“You’re pretty too, Jimmy.” Thomas managed to whisper breathlessly.

The younger man arched a brow and gave the under butler a wink, “I’m aware, Mr Barrow.”

“You shameless pig!” Thomas spat humorously.

Jimmy cracked up laughing and manoeuvred Thomas’s head left so the older man lay against his chest. Thomas's soft chair tickled his chin and Jimmy couldn't help giggling against his ear. He realised Thomas had quite small ears. They were little and round and looked very sweet. A part of him was tempted to nibble on the man's lobe whilst Thomas made shocked, delicious little gasps beneath. Instead, Jimmy placed a light butterfly kiss against the side of Thomas’s pale neck, which caused the nervous under butler so quiver against his chest.

“Jimmy?” Thomas whispered nervously into the footman’s neck. His mind felt completely blank and his body felt freezing cold, yet scalding hot all at once. He raised his head to address the footman properly but he froze when he met the predatory stare that was fixed on his face. A shiver ran up his spin, causing Thomas to shudder when suddenly, he was pushed backwards by two strong hands. Before he could splutter an answer or recover from the shock, Jimmy leaned over his chest and continued to stare into his eyes. His friend’s eyes were now almost completely black as he hovered over Thomas like a prowling panther who had corned his petrified prey.

“Jimmy, what are you –“ Thomas attempted to ask, only to be cut off by a thumb resting against his lips. He began to pant softly as Jimmy traced his thumb across his quivering bottom lip and he had to resist the urge to slip his tongue out to taste the blonde man’s skin.

“Just don’t move, please.” Jimmy warned in a strained voice. “I just want to try something.”

Had Thomas been focused and calm, he would have likely realised what Jimmy’s next move was going to be but unfortunately, he was frozen beneath the younger man like a trapped fawn. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jimmy’s handsome face. The man’s full pink lips were gaping open and his eyes were dark with lust, lust that Thomas never expected to be the recipient of. He had dreamt many times of moments like this where Jimmy loomed over his body, ready to take him as he lay feeble beneath him. His heart was racing a mile to the dozen and his mind felt disconnected from his body, reminding Thomas of his childhood dream where he skated through glittering silver stars. His mind began to reel from over stimulation and he felt as though he was spiralling, losing his way within the universe as he weaved through star, after star, after star until suddenly, soft, plush lips carefully placed themselves on top of his own. Warmth flooded into his veins as his eyes closed on their own accord whilst bright little lights danced behind them. The lips that were touching his own applied more pressure and a finger gently traced his right cheekbone, sending a wave of icy heat across his face. How long Thomas lay on the hard, stone ground was a mystery for a minute could have or an hour. Then, like the first puff of smoke that rose from a cigarette, the lips that pressed against him pulled away and finally Thomas could breathe.

Silence followed. Only the sound of the two men’s pants proved that the world had not stopped spinning for in this moment, Thomas did not know whether he was truly alive. After quickly swallowing a lump in his throat, the under butler carefully opened his eyes and sighed softly when the smiling man above him gently tapped the tip of his nose.

“Was – was that alright?” Jimmy stammered in a thick voice. His arms were shaking as they framed Thomas’s shoulders and he could feel heat pooling into his crotch as he drank in the under butler’s surprised, aroused expression below him.

Unable to answer him vocally, Thomas could only nod three times as he continued to stare at Jimmy. The man’s cheeks were blotchy and red, yet he still looked incredibly handsome. If was able, Thomas knew that he would happily stare at James Kent forever and always. He had to contain a whine when the footman ran his tongue across his lip to moisten his full, soft lips. Those lips had kissed him twice now, twice without prompt or seduction. He had either died and gone to heaven for something was amiss. Jimmy’s thumb returned to his mouth as he traced across his mouth again before he slid his hand upwards to run his fingers through Thomas’s silky hair.

Although it was likely to be a terrible decision and he may seriously regret his actions in the morning, Thomas accepted that life was giving him lemons and he needed to make his lemonade. He leaned into Jimmy’s touch and allowed a gasp to escape from his lips, successfully drawing Jimmy’s attention back to his mouth. He rose his hips slightly and shuddered blissfully when Jimmy reacted perfectly, wrapping on of Thomas’s long legs around his hip. The footman leaned forward and rested his head against Thomas’s neck before he nipped at the older man’s skin. Thomas whined quietly and rolled his body upwards in a fluid motion that turned his long, pale neck to the left to grant the footman access to his delicate skin. Jimmy accepted the hint and leaned closer so he could run his tongue across Thomas’s angular jaw before the he regained control and sharply turned Thomas’s head to face him before he swooped down to capture the under butler’s mouth in a desperate kiss. Thomas moaned softly and felt his heart flutter when Jimmy smiled against his lips. He wanted more from Jimmy, he desperately wanted the footman to fully claim his mouth. In a clever, calculated move he pressed his leg harder against Jimmy’s hip and almost purred when the footman hitched his thigh higher and gave him a squeeze before the footman travelled his hand down to grip Thomas’s waist. The trick worked as Jimmy began to tease Thomas’s bottom lip with his tongue, begging for access. Of course Thomas gently parted his lips and couldn’t stop his body from shaking when he felt Jimmy’s warm, thick tongue desperately invade his mouth.

 _“He tastes like tobacco and orange juice,_ ” Jimmy thought to himself as he delved deeper into the kiss. He felt intoxicated, drunk on his lust for the handsome under butler. His mind was filled with Thomas as he fought for dominance as their tongues battled. An idea suddenly came to him and he smirked against Thomas’s red lips, happy in the knowledge that he was going to overpower the older man. He gave Thomas’s waist one final gentle squeeze before he pulled the man closer, pressing his own torso against Thomas’s chest. His trailed his hand down the bottom of Thomas’s spine and enjoyed the man’s small moan before he quickly slid his hand further to grab himself a handful of pert, firm arse.

Immediately the under butler’s hips rose as he whined against Jimmy’s lips. He turned his head to the left to escape Jimmy’s kiss as he gasped for air. His cheeks burned as Jimmy continued to knead his arse. He grasped onto the young footman's strong shoulders and almost squeaked when he felt the man’s soft tongue lap against his neck. Nips and kisses against his neck had always been a weakness of his and he nearly always found himself melting into a man’s touch whenever he was ravished. Until now it had been Philip who had been the most skilled in this field but presently, Jimmy was doing a spectacular job. His eyes closed again and he sighed when Jimmy smiled against his skin and awarded his submission with a hard, quick nip under his ear. Rolling his hips upward again, Thomas allowed Jimmy to give his bottom one final pat before the warm hand moved upwards to hold onto Thomas’s strong thigh. His eyes flew open when he suddenly realised that Jimmy was hard. The man who he had lusted after and pined for was pressing his cock into Thomas’s hip.

“ _This can’t be real_ ,” Thomas repeated over and over in his mind. “ _This can’t be fucking real_.” He then realised that he himself was hard. “ _Oh god, I’m pressing against him and he’s kissing me neck!_ ”

He froze when he felt his tie being ripped from his throat. Before he could protest or encourage, Jimmy took Thomas’s bottom lip between his teeth and gently nibbled on the soft skin before he plunged into Thomas’s pliant mouth. It was as though heaven and hell collided, rolling into a live renactment of Thomas’s secret dreams. Jimmy moaned against his mouth and Thomas plucked up the courage to slide his downs down from the man’s shoulders to grasp his strong bicep.

“Are you two still up?” A voice suddenly called from the hallway.

Thomas immediately attempted to jump upwards, forgetting in his panic that he would collide head first with the shocked footman. Both men clutched their foreheads and the groaned in pain as they scrambled around on the stone floor to pull themselves to their feet. Thomas had to bend over to rest against his knees for a moment as he feared he was going to be sick. Jimmy was shaking slightly and his face was redder than ever as he took long, steadying breaths.

“Honestly, the pair of you will be walking around like the living dead tomorrow and it’s your own fault, both of you!” Mrs Patmore called. It sounded as though she was busting around the kitchen, possibly looking for something or checking that all of the food supplies had been stowed away correctly in the pantry.

Jimmy dashed across the room and checked his reflection in a candle stick. After he rearranged his hair and straightened his clothes, he strode past Thomas and headed for the kitchen. Thomas remained frozen from fear but he listened to Jimmy’s conversation with the cook.

“It’s just me, Mrs Patmore. I accidentally fell asleep down here.” Jimmy lied. His voice was even and steady but Thomas could hear the faint strain in his tone.

He heard the cook tut, “you stupid boy, imagine if Mr Carson had found you down here. Get yourself to bed.”

“What are you doing?” Jimmy asked in a casual tone.

Inside the kitchen, the footman leaned on the island counter in the middle of the kitchen as he watched Mrs Patmore pour herself a glass of water. Thomas heard the tap run from the dining room.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The cook snapped. “I forgot to clean my glass last night so I’m sorting myself out a fresh cup of water. Now away to bed with you, I’ll follow you up.”

Thomas’s knees gave way and he collapsed to the floor as he heard two pairs of footsteps leaving the kitchen. He felt bile rising up his throat as his stomach churched so the shaking under butler quickly raised a hand to cover his mouth. All of the heat that had surrounded his body had vanished, leaving him feeling cold and clammy, like he truly was a living corpse. Why on earth he had allowed himself to indulge in such activities was beyond him now that he sat kneeling on the floor. Mrs Patmore could have walked straight in and found him and Jimmy _carrying on_ with each other like foul heathens. His body jolted as his throat contracted, almost making his letch but he quickly composed himself.

“Jimmy, turn the light off you clod!” Mrs Patmore cried.

Thomas removed his hand from this mouth and stared up at the doorway as Jimmy came into his line of sight. The footman stared at him with wide, frightened eyes before he turned the light off to shroud the room in darkness. Tears pricked at the corners of Thomas’s eyes as he felt more bile rising up his throat. He looked up again and saw Jimmy’s silhouette fading from his view as he walked away.

 

* * *

 

 Thomas had no idea how long had been lying on the dining hall floor. He had curled himself into a foetal position after Jimmy had left and he had not moved an inch since. His body ached and he was shivering from both the cold and fear.

“What did you expect?” He whispered tearfully to himself. “What did you fucking expect?” He scrunched his eyes closed and allowed himself to sob as he felt water trickling down his cheeks. “You’re a grown man who’s lying on the floor in the middle of the night crying because you kissed another man, another man that you likely confused, _you fucking fool!”_

He could not move. He could not breathe properly.

Hours passed and soon, sunlight began to lighten the shadowy room. His night had already been terrible enough as it was and Thomas did not want to be found in his current position. Reluctantly, he heaved his body to its feet and trudged out of the room. He felt heavy in both heart and mind as he slowly walked to his room. Once he managed to slip inside, Thomas collapsed onto his bed where he began to sob again, muffling his cries with his pillow.

 

* * *

 

 “Where on earth is Mr Barrow?” Mr Carson snapped as the rest of the staff spooned porridge into their mouths.

“I didn’t see him this morning.” Alfred answered in a concerned voice, “Do you think he’s sick?”

All of the staff looked in Jimmy’s direction, expecting the footman to know the under butler’s whereabouts.

Jimmy stared back at everyone, pale faced before he cleared his throat. “Um, I think he said that he had a headache yesterday.”

Mr Carson looked affronted as he opened and closed his mouth in disbelief as though any illness that Mr Barrow may or may not have was a personal insult to him.

“Alfred, why don’t you go and check on Mr Barrow? Go and make sure that he’s alright.” Mrs Hughes offered calmly as she frowned at Mr Carson. “I’ve noticed that he’s looked a little bit peaky for a while.”

The butler turned to stare at the housekeeper square in the face. “Have you? You never said anything to me, Mrs Hughes.”

The housekeeper gave the butler a tight lipped smile as she politely replied, “It’s hard to tell when he’s always so pale.”

“The curse of the English!” Mr Mosely chipped in humorously. “I’m sure Mr Barrow will be alright.”

Jimmy swallowed his mouthful of porridge that now tasted faintly of sick. He was still recovering from the shock of last night when Mrs Patmore had interrupted him and Thomas…doing what exactly? What on earth was he doing with Thomas?

“ _You’re just lonely and he was there being all…all willing._ ” He concluded to himself. “ _He’s a queer and you just like kissing people, it’s got nothing to do with men or women._ ”

He froze as he felt someone eyes on him. He slowly cast his eye to the right and saw the new maid, Edna, smirking at him with a sly arched brow. She tipped her chin haughtily at him before she turned her attention to Anna. Jimmy glared at her and continued to watch her as he finished his breakfast. Once the meal was over, he took his time and tried to keep out of the other servant’s way. He was about to follow Mr Bates through the door when suddenly his arm was yanked sideways.

“ _I know what you did last night_ ,” Edna hissed in his ear.

Jimmy felt as though he was going to faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edna can do one.


	13. Come In From the Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edna is a witch but her take on Thomas and Jimmy's brief amorous encounter is rather humerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is a little later and I apologise for how brief it is.  
> I was involved in a car crash on Thursday night so me and my friend ended up in hospital. We're fine and our insurance can cover all of the damage. The woman who knocked into us is lovely so thankfully we don't need to sue anyone.  
> We were very lucky.
> 
> I'm still recovering so my chapters may be a little shorter and they will likely be delayed.  
> Please bear with me during this time.
> 
> Thank you. :)

_‘You’re quite pretty for a man.’_

Echoes of Jimmy’s voice ghosted around Thomas as he lay still in his bed, shaking and cold. When he thought of Jimmy’s touches from the previous night, he felt bonfires ignite along his spine and he would shudder which only made him feel more nauseous. His head felt heavy, he could barely bring himself to move and to make matters worse he was desperate to use the facilities. If he left his room that would mean he would likely meet someone in the corridor. Mr Carson or (god forbids) Jimmy could be outside. Sunlight was streaming into his room but he had not heard Ivy knock on his door to rouse him so it was likely the early hours of the morning. Nobody was going to bother him in the early hours of the morning.

“Mr Barrow?” A voice called from the beyond his door, which was followed by two sharp raps against the wood.

“I spoke too soon – well thought too soon.” Thomas mumbled to himself. It felt exhausting to speak.

“I’m coming in, Mr Barrow. It’s Alfred, are you alright?” The young footman announced in a worried tone as he opened the door. Just as he stepped into the room, Mr Barrow vomited.

“Oh no, you need to see Dr Clarkson, Mr Barrow. I’ll get Mr Carson.” Alfred cried as he hurried out of the room.

Thomas felt his cheeks burning as he tried to control his retching. His blankets were now covered in sick, his chest was covered in sick and bloody Alfred had barged in to witness it. Thomas hated feeling embarrassed, he despised it. He had feeling ill and he hated vomit. When he was a medic during the war he had dealt effectively with peeling skin, charred flesh, blood, and spit but one bodily fluid that he could not handle at all was sick. It was disgusting, it made him want to vomit and he hated being ill himself. He hated other people witnessing him vomiting.

“Lord, take me now and get it fucking over with.” He spat aloud. “Besides, Alfred should have stayed the help clear this up anyways, the bloody idiot!”

Within half an hour, Thomas’s bed was stripped and changed by Mrs Hughes and Alfred, whilst Thomas watched them miserably from his arm chair in a fresh pair of pyjamas. Dr Clarkson had been sent for immediately by Carson and the old doctor had diagnosed that Mr Barrow likely had a stomach ache. Mrs Hughes passed on the Crawley’s well wishes and their hopes that Mr Barrow’s health would improve soon, not that Thomas particularly cared, although he was somewhat grateful for their concern. He sighed watching Mrs Hughes place his pillow back onto his bed as she instructed Alfred to leave and continue with his work.

“Now then Mr Barrow,” she smiled as she fixed her firm gaze upon the under butler, “you need to rest today and keep yourself hydrated. You’ve got a water jug here and a bucket in case you need to be sick. Will you require one of the old chamber pots or do you think you will be able to walk to the facilities?”

Thomas wished that he could disappear into his chair. “Mrs Hughes, I believe that Dr Clarkson said my stomach was the problem, not my legs.”

The housekeeper’s mild smile faded as she frowned at him. “There’s nothing wrong with that sharp tongue of yours either.”

“Sorry,” Thomas apologised meekly.

Mrs Hughes mellowed again and as she watched the man’s shoulders slump. “Well you’re unwell today so I won’t scold you. Get yourself back into bed and someone will come to check on you in an hour. Daisy or someone will bring you some broth later.”

“Thanks,” he replied weakly.

The housekeeper gave him one final sympathetic smile before she swiftly left his room, no doubt eager to return to her duties. He knew of course that the servant’s at Downton were always very busy but he was certain that when William and Daisy fell ill with a cold, it seemed as though they were simpered over and mollycoddled for a good ten minutes when they were ill. Mrs Hughes and Alfred had barely stayed in his room for five minutes, they only bustled in and out.

“ _Maybe I’m just being childish_ ,” he wondered to himself as he slowly rose from the armchair to traipse sluggishly to his small bed. As he lay himself down, he felt a strange feeling of longing or yearning. The blank ceiling above him looked was white and sparse like a wide, blank void, yet at the same time it also looked like a very confined, small square. This juxtaposition was confusing but Thomas felt as though he was like the stark, plain ceiling above him. The white space had little meaning and it looked undecorated. Even the other servant’s ceilings, like William’s room (which was now Alfred’s) and Jimmy’s had a few little stains and spots but his was perfect, completely pure white - well almost pure, it was a very faded, murky sort of pale white. He knew why he felt this way: he was lonely.

He had always felt lonely in some way, from when he was a small child to a young man to now. His siblings had left their childhood home, leaving Thomas alone with his father and he never heard from them again. His sister, a young girl who once held him so dear never bothered to find him. His brother vanished. His mother died. His father didn’t want him. He had to leave his childhood first love and become a grown up in servitude. He had to leave school and his education to work. His teacher last ever teacher had once told him, “You’re a bright boy, Thomas, if only you could go to university.” He did now know the true weight of those words when he was fourteen. He arrived at Downton as a hall boy. He was a little younger than the other boy who was called either Henry or Horace. Thomas was fussed over at first because he was a pale and thin. He enjoyed being the ‘littlest boy’ as he received extra attention from Mrs Patmore who wanted to fatten him up. Then Henry/Horace left and Thomas became a footman. Then William arrived and he fucked everything up. He was sweet and sickly and Thomas hated him. William was an only child who had never been abandoned by his family. He lived on a picturesque little farm in the bloody picturesque little village with his two kind, old parents who patently adored him. Naturally of course, William went on to be bloody adored at Downton even though his work was crap at times. Thomas rarely ever made an error and when he did, it was because he spoke out of line and was overheard, not because his actual work was incorrect. Thomas remembered how he had always looked better and carried himself better, plus he was better looking. William looked childish in comparison. Then even William left. Although they were never friends, Thomas had never wished him dead. He even missed his presence somewhat, just like he does O’Brien’s, who had also left him. Granted, he had contributed greatly to the end of their alliance but it had still stung when she began to plot against him. Their relationship was never particularly warm but she did comfort him once when he had been on the verge of a panic attack in the yard after he had forgotten where he was. O’Brien had spoken harshly to him and told him bluntly to stop thinking about the trenches, but she had also put her hand on his shoulder. She had even smoothed one of his stray hairs back into place. Sometimes he missed her now but he doubted that she missed him. Then there was the poor blind solider, Edward, who had died just after he had started to warm up to Thomas. He had placed a hand on his knee one night. Once Edward had even asked to touch his face.

_“What do you look like? Tell me please,”_ Edward had asked.

“ _I’m tall. I’m very pale, which people seem to like to point out a lot, especially the cook here who often remarks that I look peaky. I’ve got black hair and my eyes are blue.”_ Thomas had replied quietly whilst Edward frowned thoughtfully.

_“Well…that’s not particularly descriptive, Corporal Barrow. I’m going to ask Nurse Crawley for a better description of you. I hate not being able to see! You should appreciate your sight. Promise me that you’ll appreciate your sight whilst you have it. You have no idea how frustrating it is not being able to see people!”_ Edward had snapped as his expression grew mournful.

Thomas had felt very guilty and he could feel that very same guilt resurfacing as he lay in his bed. If there was one promise he had vowed to keep after he and Sybil had failed to save him, he always made sure that he drank in as much visual detail as he could.

_“Can I touch your face, Corporal? It will be a little strange but I hear that’s how blind people form an image of another man in their mind.”_ Edward had asked him in a quiet voice. When Thomas did not immediately reply, he had cried, _“never mind, I’m being silly!”_

_“N-No, no you’re not!”_ Thomas remembered stuttering, _“of course you can. I was just surprised. Here, give me your hand.”_

He had placed Edward’s right hand onto his face carefully. The blind man felt around Thomas’s jaw with his fingertips, pressing on his skin so lightly that the soldier’s movements were almost shy. Once they had both become more comfortable, Edward had begun to trace Thomas’s face with both of his hands. He had paid particular attention to his strong cheekbones, his eyebrows and he had brushed across his mouth a few times. As Thomas lay in his bed in the present, he closed his eyes and found that he could still feel the memory of Edward’s touch on his face.

_“I…Barrow, I think I can almost picture you!”_ Edward had whispered, “ _I honestly think I can get an idea of you!”_ The man had continued to feel around Thomas’s face as he softly exclaimed words along the lines of _“how curious”_ and _“my goodness.”_

_“Well what do you think I look like then?”_ Thomas had whispered. Why the both whispered, he can’t remember. He could remember enjoying himself as Edward stroked his skin. He had always loved it someone ghosted their fingertips over his skin. He found the stimulation soothing and calming. When he was a child, he used to love it when he mother would tickle his arms gently with her nails.

Edward had chucked softly at his cheek and withdrew his hands from Thomas’s face. _“I think you will have quite angular features. You’ve got very prominent cheekbones. Your nose is very straight. Your lips felt as though they were long and quite full, which I’m sure look perfectly handsome on your face. You’ve got a slightly pointed chin and your jaw is sharp as well. Do you like slightly elfin?”_

Thomas remembered laughing, genuinely laughing at Edward’s question. _“I wouldn’t say elfin!”_ He had laughed, _“but I’ve got sharp features.”_

Edward had smiled slightly, _“I’m sure you’re lovely. I wish I could see you, I’m sure that you’re very handsome. You have very soft skin – never mind, I’m just feeling somewhat…somewhat whimsical at the moment, I don’t mean anything by it,”_ and then his face had grown dark. _“I can’t even remember what I look like, let alone anyone else. I can’t remember my mother. Oh my god, Barrow! I can’t remember by own mother’s face. I can’t picture her! I can’t picture anyone!”_

He had tried to calm the poor man but he knew that it was fruitless; once Edward Courtney fell into a dark mood then he stayed that way for hours and he could not be reasoned with. He now lay in a grave in the village cemetery. Thomas knew which grave was Edward’s.

Thomas opened his eyes slowly and the memory of Edward Courtney’s face faded. Once again, his gaze met the bleak ceiling above him. Birds were tweeting loudly outside of his window. He felt as though he needed to vomit again but he chose to ignore it, he was not going to be sick when he remembering Edward. Sometimes his thoughts drifted to the solider and he felt sorrowful knowing that he was not able to save Edward or get to know him better. The man had placed his hand on Thomas’s knee and requested to touch his face. He was fond of Nurse Crawley yet he never asked to toucher her, at least not to Thomas’s knowledge. Could there have been something between them or was he looking too far into an innocent display of trust and affection?

“It doesn’t matter because you’ll never know.” He whispered to himself.

Lifting his head slightly, Thomas glanced at his small bookshelf. He had nothing to do so he could read something. As he trolled his small shelf with his eyes, he decided against this idea as he didn’t feel like flicking through the same books that he had already read a thousand times before. He could read Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales, or perhaps Dracula.

“I haven’t read A Tale of Two Cities for quite a while,” he whispered aloud to himself. “Or I could read A Study in Scarlet.”

Novels were his second favourite thing to purchase, the first being cigarettes. It was not often that he could afford to buy a decent book, plus he had to travel to York to buy one but he was always happy when he could return to Downton with one. Lord Grantham kindly allows him to borrow from his library but Thomas was a proud man and he preferred to buy his own books. He considered his small collection for a few more moments before he decided that he absolutely did not fancy reading. He couldn’t get up and dress in his livery as he still felt nauseous. If he ended up vomiting in front of the Crawley’s, Mr Carson would never recover from the shame. The man would likely end up in an early grave. The only thing that Thomas knew he could not do was to think of Jimmy. He could not think about Jimmy. He needed to erase the previous night from his mind. He needed to forget how the other man was held him closely, called him pretty, kissed him, ran his hands over his body.

“Jimmy will probably never speak to me again,” he whispered as his eyes prickled with tears. “Fuck off, you’re not going to bloody cry. Stop it. You’re being pathetic. Just pretend it didn’t happen and just keep your distance if he’s funny. If he’s fine, then just pretend that everything’s normal because it’s all fine, he didn’t mean to do anything because he’s a ladies’ man. You aren’t. I’m bloody tired. Jimmy probably just had an off night last night.” Thomas blathered away to himself.

Suddenly he heard a light tap on his door.

“Mr Barrow, I was sent to check on you. Are you alright?” Jimmy called loudly as he knocked again. “I’m coming in anyway.”

Thomas stared in horror as the blonde man strode into his room. He had a half-eaten apple in his hand and although he smiled at Thomas, he looked very tired.

“Who were you talking to? I could hear you whittling away to someone.” Jimmy asked before he took a large bite from his apple.

“Erm, nobody I was complaining to myself,” Thomas answered quickly as he looked at Jimmy’s apple. “Where did you get the apple from?”

“It was lying on the kitchen bench so I nicked it.” Jimmy shrugged as he chewed loudly. “I wasn’t actually sent by anyone. Do I look calm?”

Thomas blinked at him and had to resist the urge to shake his head. “You what?”

Jimmy swallowed and repeated, “do I look calm?”

“Er…yes?” Thomas nodded. He watched the young man cautiously but Jimmy was offering him no clues as to which direction this conversation would take.

“Well I’m not,” the footman snapped. “Look, last night –“

“Oh god!” Thomas wailed, throwing his hands over his face. “Jimmy, I promise that I don’t think that you’re like me or that you’re…you’re whatever, I don’t know! You’re probably –“

Jimmy flapped his hands at Thomas, almost dropping the apple that he gripped in his left fist. “No, I’m not here for that. We need to talk about, well about all of that but not now. It’s that Edna, that bloody maid!”

At the mention of the young woman’s name, Thomas felt a cold shiver skate down this spine. He knew from the moment he had laid eyes on her that she was someone who could not be trusted.

“She cornered me in the staircase earlier when nobody was around,” Jimmy said quietly as he walked forward and sat on the edge of Thomas’s bed. “She told me that,” the footman paused and leant closer towards Thomas. “You don’t look ill, you bloody actor!”

“I was sick earlier,” Thomas assured him haughtily. “Alfred was there if you want to confirm with him.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and returned to his original place at the top of the bed. “As I was saying, that Edna. She corners me and accused _me_ of – of bloody assaulting _you!_ She said that I pushed you onto the floor so I could blooming well molest you or something and that she ran to get Mrs Hughes. She then changed her mind because she’s blackmailing me.”

Thomas gaped at Jimmy, “Hold on, she thinks that you were assaulting me?”

“Yes!” Jimmy cried, throwing his hands into the air. “She said that people hinted that you were different so she figured you’re a lavender. She thinks that I’m after you because I’m a queer as well and that I forced myself onto you and that you’re not really ill, you’re just hiding from me! She said that she once knew a footman who was a queer. He got pounced on by some other bloke and he was so scared, it made him ill and now he’s frightened of men. She thinks I’ve scared you.”

The under butler was speechless. He was speechless.

“I know!” Jimmy shouted, leaping to his feet in frustration.

“This can’t be real.” Thomas finally whispered.

“Pssh!” Jimmy hissed as he began to angrily pace backwards and forwards.

Thomas watched him stalk about whilst he processed their current situation. Edna believed that Jimmy had attempted to molest him.

“Oh my word!” Thomas whispered, staring at Jimmy with bug-eyes. “She – she thought you were after _me!_ Oh the bloody irony!” The under butler cracked up laughing whilst Jimmy glared at him. “Oh fucking hell Jimmy, I can’t breathe! This is hilarious!”

“It’s not hilarious, Mr Barrow! She wants me to help her bag Mr Branson!” Jimmy snapped, stopping in his tracks to frown at Thomas. “And she thinks I’m a bloody molester!”

“Imagine! I can’t believe this Jimmy, I can’t. I feel sick but I can’t stop laughing!” Thomas croaked as he wiped his weeping eyes. “Pass me the bucket Jimmy, I think I’m going to be sick.”

Jimmy huffed and stalked over to the metal bucket, which he swiped off the floor. He thrust it roughly into the giggling under butler’s chest. “Be sick then, you deserve it for laughing at me.” At these words, Jimmy broke into a smile. “It is daft, isn’t it? Everything seems like it’s upside down at the moment, doesn’t it? I feel like Lewis bloody Caroll has pushed us all through the looking glass.”

“Very eloquent,” Thomas nodded as he prepared himself to vomit.

“I need to be getting on. Carson thinking I’m in the village getting a few supplies but Alfred had already bought them – Carson doesn’t know it though.” Jimmy smiled as he stepped away from Thomas’s bed. “We’ll talk about this later, alright? I’m keeping my head down to today.”

“Jimmy wait –“ Thomas called before the footman could leave, “I do have one thing to say. Right, so Edna’s after Mr Branson?”

Jimmy’s brows furrowed in suspicion and confusion as he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes, “well yes, that’s what she wants me to help her with, she fancies him. Look Thomas, can we talk later? I need to get upstairs before Mr Carson realises that I’m not around.”

Thomas smiles quickly and waves his hand at Jimmy, signalling for him to leave. “Yes, sorry you get on. I’ll have a think about how we can handle your new friend.”

Jimmy nods again and hurries out of the room. Thomas can hear him scuttling along the corridor, no doubt racked with anxiety and fear. It was ludicrous for Edna to think that Jimmy would be the one to pounce on him and his friend looked so concerned, Thomas knew that it was cruel of him to snigger but he couldn’t help it as the irony was too funny.

 

* * *

 

 Something was not quite right, Mrs Hughes could sense it. It wasn’t just Mr Barrow’s unfortunate illness; there was something else amiss at Downton. Perhaps it was an explainable case of paranoia as she and everyone else in the house recovered from the string of unfortunate events that had taken place recently. They had lost dear Lady Sybil, then poor Matthew Crawley and then Thomas was nearly thrown into the streets. That terrible man Mr Green had tried to assault poor Anna but praise the Lord that God decided that it was time for him to take that awful man’s life in the accident that had been splashed all over the papers. Lady Edith seemed to vanish often and then return, all out of sorts and confused, possibly due to the disappearance of her dear Mr Gregson. The housekeeper knew that Downton was never going to be the same again. The times were most certainly changing but at Downton, everyone from the family to the servant’s had seen too must loss to ever think that life could return to its pre-war state. She paused for a moment in the servant’s hallway and listened to the sounds of life around her. Someone above had just closed the hidden door to the servant’s staircase. She could Mr Mosley’s voice somewhere in the distance. Mrs Patmore was shouting at Ivy in the kitchen. A pair of light footsteps approached her from behind.

“Excuse me, Mrs Hughes,” Jimmy said politely as he nudged past her.

The younger man’s shoulders were slightly slumped and his curls were slightly messier than normal. He looked tired, tense and overall, quite terrible, although not as terrible as poor bedridden Mr Barrow.

“Are you alright James?” She called before the young man could hurry away.

Jimmy turned around and gaped at her in surprise for a moment. “I’m fine, Mrs Hughes. Why do you ask?” His hands shook slightly and he appeared jittery, like a frightened deer.

The housekeeper frowned and straightened her back slightly, “You just seem a little down this morning. Your mood had improved of late and you seemed to be in high spirits. Now you look a little unwell, are you coming down with something as well?”

Jimmy resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the woman’s suspicious tone. “I’m just a little tired this morning but it’s nothing for you to worry about Mrs Hughes,” he lied quickly, avoiding the housekeeper’s firm stare.

Mrs Hughes’s expression seemed to soften, a sign that she believed Jimmy, “You look a little run down, I must say. Is there anything on your mind?”

“Er…no, nothing’s on my mind. I’m just waking up a little earlier than normal and I suppose it’s catching up with me.” Jimmy assured her with a forced smile.

The housekeeper seemed appeased with his answer and gave his shoulder a quick pat before she brushed past him. Jimmy always exhaled a sigh of relief as he watched her walk away. For all Mrs Hughes was kind, he could not inform her of Edna’s blackmail and he definitely could not tell her about him and Mr Barrow. Too many questions would be raised and both he and Thomas would end up in serious trouble, with poor Thomas likely facing the brunt of it. He would be accused of corrupting Jimmy and seducing him with his sinful ways, whilst Jimmy would be thrown out alongside him. Perhaps he would be able to pull the victim card but ever since Thomas had saved him at the fair, Jimmy knew that he couldn’t be so cowardly when it came to his friend again. If Thomas left, Jimmy would leave with him.

_“Hopefully it won’t come to that,”_ Jimmy thought _, “Thomas can handle Edna, we both can. Nobody outsmarts Mr Barrow.”_

 

* * *

 

 Later that evening, Thomas lay in his bed with his arms crossed across his chest as Alfred placed a fresh jug of water on his small side table. The footman had bounded into his room so clumsily Thomas had nearly leapt out of his skin from the shock. After giving Thomas fresh water, Alfred had continued to hover and bumble about, straightening the cushion on his arm chair and adjusting the curtains. If there was one thing that Thomas Barrow hated, besides almost being caught kissing his best friend, it was people fussing over him, especially if that person was _Alfred_.

“Do you need to be sick again, Mr Barrow? Should I get Mr Carson to phone the doctor again? Do you want a glass of water now? Do you need me to move your pillows?” the redheaded footman babbled as he hovered beside the pale under butler.

Thomas closed his eyes for a moment as he prayed for patience. The young man was only trying to be kind but Alfred Nugent was another ‘ _Mosley’_ in Thomas’s book; a person who, no matter how hard they tried, would always end up being more of a nuisance and hindrance than a help, at least in his eyes.

“I could ask Mrs Patmore to bring you some soup. Now I know that you’re proud and all Mr Barrow but Mrs Hughes said for me to tell you that she says that you can’t always hide when you’re not feeling well.” Alfred said firmly as he continued to whittle away. “My uncle was a strong man and h used to always pretend that his health was better than it was. He was older than you though, he was in his forties but still, it did him no good Mr Barrow.”

“Alfred,” Thomas interrupted before the young man could continue to blabber on further, “I appreciate you coming to check on me, thank you, but you need to get on with your work. Mr Carson won’t be best pleased if he thinks your loitering somewhere.”

He watched the red headed footman’s eyes widen, “You’re right. Well if you don’t need anything, I’ll be getting on. Good evening, Mr Barrow.”

“Alright Alfred, off your trot,” Thomas urged him with a forced smile.

Finally the young man scuttled out of the room to leave Thomas alone with his thoughts. He had formed a vague plan in his mind of how he could help Jimmy handle Edna. Today he felt in no fit state to put his scheme’s wheels in motion but if Jimmy would be able to visit him later, he could discuss the matter with him.

One thing was certain; Edna would not get away with blackmailing Jimmy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can do it, Thomas. We have full faith in you.
> 
> Thomas is very harsh towards poor Alfred and Mosley though.


	14. Pinky and the Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas concocts an ingenius plan whilst Jimmy helps to ground him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back!
> 
> I just want to warn you all now that this chapter is badly written as far as I'm concerned but I don't have the energy to develop it further. The next chapter will be far more interesting, I promise.  
> This is basically a filler chapter. I tried to improve this as I was writing but my motivation was fading more and more so this is the best I can do at the moment.  
> Please bear with me.

Faint wisps of grey smoke swirled around Thomas and Jimmy as they sat on a bench in the servant’s courtyard. Thomas contently finished his cigarette whilst the younger man squirmed anxiously in his seat next to him, clearly too nervous to sit still. The sky above was overcast and looked very grey, only serving to depress Jimmy further. The footman couldn’t understand Thomas’s calm demeanour as the under butler was normally very uptight and protective when matters related to his sexuality, which was understandable and expected considering it was illegal to be homosexual.

“I don’t know how you can sit there so calmly with your bloody smoke,” Jimmy huffed as he slumped back against the brick wall behind them, furiously crossing his arms. “Did you see her when she kept looking at me at breakfast?”

Thomas nodded and half closed his eyes as he listened to Jimmy’s complaints. The footman continued to rant in urgent, hushed tones until Thomas finally raised his hand to silence him.

“You do realise that she’s being very foolish, don’t you? If she can win Mr Branson over, I’ll eat my hat.” Thomas said quietly as he flicked the remainder of his cigarette onto the floor.

Jimmy shuffled slightly in his seat and finally conceded, “yes, I can’t imagine Mr Branson wanting anything to do with her. He’s lonely though, Thomas, you can see that, surely? She’s young, she’s pretty enough and if she goes throwing herself at him then what if he lets her?”

Mr Branson giving in to an advance from Edna was a possibility but for all he never particularly cared for the Irishman, Thomas did believe that Tom Branson was stronger than any potential frivolous desires he may come to harbour for the sly maid. He had loved Lady Sybil and if he was to love again, he would love someone good, not a cold, calculating woman like Edna. Thomas couldn’t bear the thought of Sybil being replaced by _her._

“Well we’ve not got to let that happen, have we?” Thomas insisted, “She’s out at the moment with Anna, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Jimmy nodded as he eyed the other man curiously. “And?”

“That’s why I asked you to meet me out here. I kept my distance from you at breakfast and I didn’t look at you.” Thomas continued, turning in his seat slightly so he could face Jimmy.

The footman’s brows furrowed as he cast his memory back to their earlier meal. “Yes, now I think about it you did ignore me. I was too miffed with Edna to notice.”

“Exactly. I’m going to keep my distance from you for a bit, alright? That’s why I wanted to speak to you as soon as possible so you wouldn’t think that I was intentionally being rude.” Thomas explained firmly, “that way Edna will think that I’m keeping away from you because you’re a molester.” A smile escaped onto his lips and he had to laugh, which earned him a hard kick to the shin from Jimmy.

“Cheers for that, you bastard! Let me be seen as a bloody predator.” Jimmy grumbled, although the corners of his mouth twitched.

Thomas shrugged and grinned at him, “You want rid of her, don’t you?”

The footman rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling as he rolled his eyes and nodded. Mr Barrow was a clever one and he could not deny it.

“Right, so she can’t think that I’m helping you with this. From now on, we keep clear of each other as much as possible, however we can’t be too obvious because Mrs Hughes can spot personal trouble a mile off.” Thomas went on in a quiet voice, “Basically we’re going to use the excuse that I’m still not feeling too grand which is why I won’t spend much time with everyone downstairs in the evening. During the day we can just act like we’re always busy. That should tide us over for now.” Before Jimmy could interrupt, he quickly added, “Watch your expressions thought. Don’t follow me with sad eyes like a lost puppy. Look neutral all the time.”

Jimmy was slightly affronted and he kicked Thomas again, harder this time. “Excuse me, I don’t follow you with my eyes like a lost puppy! My arse!”

“You do,” Thomas chuckled. “I need to do the same, I’ll miss chatting to you as well.”

The footman was appeased by this and he expression softened into a kind smile. “Alright then.” He snorted softly and looked down at his knees as a faint blush spread across his cheeks.

Had their current situation been less serious, Thomas would have teased him rotten for blushing but as of now, he needed to complete his plan. “That means that I’ll appear to be out of the way, do you see? What I want you to do is to encourage Edna to be a little more direct with Mr Branson. Tell her that you’ve seen him giving her a second look and that you think he’s genuinely interested. You don’t want her to think that you’re setting her up so you really need to look as though you’re terrified that she’ll report you to Mr Carson for allegedly assaulting me. On second thoughts, whenever Edna is around and you can sense her looking at you, throw me one of your lost puppy looks but try to make sure that none of the other staff member’s notice. Edna’s got sharp eyes, I can tell so she’ll pick up on it. Perhaps only do this once, just to be safe.”

Jimmy looked baffled by this and blinked numerous times before he nodded slowly, “Right, I know what you mean.”

“Are you sure?” Thomas pressed him, cocking his right eyebrow slightly.

“Aye Mr Barrow, I understand your orders.” Jimmy quipped, giving the under butler a smirk. “Is that it?”

“For the moment that’s all you need to do. Until I saw otherwise, you just need to make Edna believe that you’re her pawn. She’s got in the corner and you can’t back out of it. Like I said, just try to gently encourage her to approach Mr Branson, if she hasn’t already. Whilst you’re nudging her along, I’m going to casually mention to Anna that Edna seems to paying a great deal of attention to Tom Branson and I’ll make a joke about her possibly becoming another Ethel. I’ll definitely be scolded for the remark but needs must,” the under butler shrugged. “I’m also going to mention it to Alfred because if he spots something funny, he’ll tell Ivy and then the whole kitchen will start chin wagging.”

Jimmy stared at the older man in awe, “you’re a clever bastard, you know that?”

Thomas smiled smugly and lit another cigarette for himself, “I’m hoping that if Edna keeps making eyes at him then Anna might mention something to Lady Mary, who will hopefully say something to Mr Branson. If in a few days’ time Edna is still after Branson, I’m going to give my observations to Mrs Hughes. Aha!” Thomas suddenly clicked his fingers, “I need to you to do something! I want you to arrange to meet Edna somewhere and you need to tell me where your little rendezvous will be. I’m going to make Alfred or if I can pull it off, Anna, to come with to do whatever – I’ll think of an excuse – and we are going to overhear you asking Edna about Mr Branson.”

Jimmy’s wide-eyed admiration slipped slightly as he listened to Thomas expanding his plan. “Hang on Thomas, this plan relies on coincidence too much. Don’t you think that we should take it one step at a time before we start creating this master scheme with all these other little options should this fail and should that fail?”

Thomas grunted softly in agreement and accepted that the footman had a point. “Yes, you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“I think that’s what your downfall is,” Jimmy offered in a gentle tone, “I think that because you get paranoid about this and that, which is understandable considering most of your schemes revolve around you getting yourself out of trouble that you’ve created for yourself. You get so caught up in the ‘what if’ parts that you start coming up with all these little plan A’s and plan B’s. You create this master plan, a really intricate web that’s brilliant and clever but it’s _too clever_. You get lost in your own plan and that’s your weakness. You don’t take anything one step at a time because you’re too busy concentrating on what your enemies next move will be. This is why you need me, I reckon! I can’t keep track of all the details like you because I’m more of a ‘take as it comes’ kind of man. You need me to be the one to hold you back when you start running off with all your ideas. I’ll keep you on track in the present.”

Thomas remained silent next to him, his eyes focused on a plant pot that lay on its side at the opposite side of the yard. The younger man had made some excellent observations and he supposed that Jimmy was right, he did often get carried away. Slowly, he peeled his eyes away from the plant pot and gave Jimmy a quick smile. The footman returned the gesture, offering Thomas a bashful grin before he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Jimmy was blushing and Thomas found it quite sweet.

“Well, we best be getting on,” Jimmy continued, his cheeks turning a darker shade of pink as he watched Thomas’s smile turn into a sly, knowing grin. “We don’t want Mr Carson to catch us sitting on our arses, do we?”

The older man snorted, flicking his cigarette onto the cobbled stones at their feet. As he extinguished the glowing butt of his roll-up tobacco, his hand had stretched across to his left and lay next to Jimmy’s leg. The footman stared at the under butler’s pale hand and in a moment of bravery, he rested his own palm on top of the man’s slim fingers and gave Thomas a comforting squeeze.

“Come on, we better get inside,” Jimmy smiled, indicating towards the staff door with his head.

The under butler had stared him with cow eyes for a moment before he quickly cleared his throat and rose to his feet, declaring, “off we go then!” He then barged ahead whilst Jimmy watched him hurry away with an amused smirk on his face. His friend would never admit it aloud but Jimmy had noted that the under butler’s behind looked very lovely when he walked at a rapid pace.

For the reminder of the day, Thomas kept his distance from Jimmy and despite the warning he received from the under butler, Jimmy couldn’t help throwing him the occasional glance. Nobody pulled him to the side for an interrogation and he received no curious looks from anyone, not even Thomas, so his pining stares must have gone unnoticed. Jimmy also decided that it would do best to bide his time before approaching Edna. He feared that if he encouraged her to speak to Mr Branson too quickly she could become suspicious and conclude that he must be planning to get her into trouble, which he was but she absolutely could _not_ realise this. Plus, he needed to make sure that enough time will pass before he lies to Edna about Tom Branson’s interest in her. Since Edna had only told him yesterday that she was planning to snare Mr Branson, Jimmy thought that it would be silly for him to suddenly notice Mr Branson’s behaviour. It would be foolish of him to rush into a conversation with the maid as it would be too obvious that he was lying to her.

“ _Thomas would be proud_ ,” he thought to himself as he followed Alfred into the dining room, carrying the meat tray.

Standing with his back to the wall during the Crawley’s supper, Jimmy paid special attention to Mr Branson, something that he had never done before. It was silly really, it wasn’t as though the Irishman was going to have ‘yes, I do fancy the maid’ tattooed on his forehead but he wondered if he could be able to notice Mr Branson behaving strangely. Thomas was far better at observations but since the man had become under butler, he was not required to serve during meals unless Carson was absent. As the seemingly never ending meal came to a close, he noted that Mr Branson had appeared completely normal and had behaved as he always did. He had made a few humorous comments here and there, he had chatted politely to Lady Rose and Cousin Isobel and he laughed at Lord Grantham’s humorous comment about modern societies (even Mr Carson had sniggered for half a second). The man appeared to be as jovial as one could be when they had lost their wife.

Later that evening, Jimmy played cards with Alfred in the servant’s hall. Around them sat Ivy, Daisy, Mrs Patmore, Mr Mosley, Mr Bates and Anna, who were all happily chatting amongst themselves. Thomas had excused himself early and had already retired for the evening, but not before he had milked his ‘illness’ for all of its worth so that Mrs Patmore gave him an extra piece of pudding to “keep up his energy for tomorrow.”

Jimmy had wanted to smack the bowl of pound cake and custard from the smug under butler’s hands. Even Mrs Hughes had commented on how brighter he appeared now that he was feeling better and Anna had offered to knit him a warm scarf for the upcoming Autumn season. How Thomas was able to manipulate the people who mistrusted him the most into feeling pity for him, Jimmy would never know. Mr Bates’s didn’t even tease him once.

“I’ll get him back later,” Jimmy grumbled to himself as he placed a ten of hearts onto the table.

“What was that, Jimmy?” Alfred asked as he placed his own card down.

The blonde footman shook his and head smiled, “nothing, I was talking to myself.”

Every few minutes, Jimmy’s eyes flickered towards the small clock that stood on the side desk to his right. He enjoyed his card game and the sing-song that he started afterwards but time was passing too slowly for his liking and he was impatient to visit Thomas in his room. The atmosphere in the dining hall was lively and very jolly amongst the remaining servants but he could not ignore the constant smirks he received from Edna. Ever since he had first laid eyes on the maid, there was something about her presence that told Jimmy she was not a character to be trusted. Now that the witch was blackmailing him and accusing him of _molestation_ , Jimmy couldn’t stand to look at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment if you wish, I read and reply to all of them.


	15. A Revelation and a Pout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tired Thomas is a stroppy Thomas.  
> Jimmy also has a revelation and finally wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK! I'M BACK!  
> I'M BACK, I'M BACK, I'M BACK!
> 
> I'm ready to get back on track with this story.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to finally update this story.

Sitting on his bed with his nose stuck in his book, Thomas was lost within the drama, captivated by Johnathon Harker’s desperate attempts to flee from the home of Count Dracula that he didn’t even notice his bedroom door flying open. Jimmy threw himself into the room, stumbling over his feet slightly but Thomas barely even gave the footman a glance, choosing instead to continue reading his favourite novel. Upon realising that his forced entry was rude, Jimmy blushed and graciously shut the door before he flopped down into Thomas’s armchair. Smacking his lips together, Jimmy waited to be acknowledged but the under butler did tear his eyes away from his book. Books had never particularly interested Jimmy, he found that he did not have the patience to ever finish a novel but Thomas was obsessed with his bloody books.

“Well I hope you enjoyed your pudding, you greedy git,” Jimmy sneered, too impatient to wait for Thomas to speak first. He shuffled in the armchair, wriggling his hips slightly to the right as he made himself comfortable. “What are you reading? That’s all you ever do, _read_.”

“One of my favourite books,” Thomas replied vaguely. “I like this part so give me a minute.”

“And your favourite book is?” Jimmy pressed as he scratched his left nostril.

“Dracula.” The under butler smiled, his eyes still focused his book.

The footman tutted impatiently and decided to remove his work shoes. Kicking them away, the smell from the sweat that clung to his socks made Jimmy crinkle his nose in disgust and he hoped that Thomas wouldn’t comment on the odour. Sweaty feet were natural, everyone ended up with sweaty feet from time to time.

“Ugh Jimmy! Is that stench coming from your feet?” Thomas cried, shaking his head. “They are absolutely lifting, put your shoes back on!”

“Nah, my feet hurt. Besides, I bet yours stink.” Jimmy shrugged as he heaved himself from the chair. The older man snorted behind him as he wandered over to the small window. “I’ll open the window.” As he unlatched the window, a cool, soothing breeze blew over his warm face. Outside, the night sky was cloudless and perfectly clear. Jimmy was reminded of an illustration that he had once seen of a child where the artist had created an ocean made of ink and stardust.

“That breeze is wafting the stink coming from your feet in my direction!” Thomas protested. “What are you looking at?” He placed his book onto his bedside table, leaning to the right so he could try to see what Jimmy was looking at. “Can you see a headless huntsman or something?”

“You read too many blooming books,” Jimmy teased, throwing Thomas a glancing at the under butler over his shoulder. “No, I’m looking at the sky. It looks nice.”

He heard Thomas shuffling on the bed behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Jimmy saw that the under butler was now kneeling on the bed, perching his body on top of his folded legs. Dressed in his pin-striped pyjamas that were slightly too big for his frame, Thomas looked younger. He stared past Jimmy, gazing at the night sky in wide eyed fascination, like a curious child.

“I had a dream once where I skated through the stars,” Thomas said quietly as he continued to stare past Jimmy. “I had seen adults ice skating over a frozen pond so I suppose that’s where it came from. I slid past the stars, on and on for a long time, all alone. Then I woke up.”

The dream sounded lovely but Jimmy was not how to respond. He turned to face the window again, shivering slightly from the cool air. “Well that sounds like a nice enough dream.”

The under butler tutted and rolled his eyes, tutting softly as he returned to his original position on his bed. “You’ve not got a romantic bone in your body!” He huffed, grinning wickedly at Jimmy when the footman turned his head to look at him.

“I’ll be leaving all that soppy lark to you and your daft, wordy books.” Jimmy quipped, sticking his tongue out childishly for good measure.

Dramatically sighing, Thomas thumped his arms against his bed. “You don’t appreciate the beauty in anything except yourself, Jimmy Kent. Art is lost on you.”

Jimmy chuckled and gave Thomas a sideways glance, smirking in amusement. “I appreciate the beauty in you, don’t I?” As soon as the words fell from his lips, Jimmy froze. His throat seemed to expand and he was unable to breathe as his heart began to gallop in his chest. Reality seemed to slip away from him, as though he were a fishing boat being washed out to sea during a storm.

“Well…cheers,” Thomas laughed, awkwardly rubbing his chin in embarrassment. “That’s a nice thing for you to say.”

“Well I’m not blind…and we’re mates,” Jimmy muttered, blushing. “You can think your mates are good looking.”

“Do you kiss all of your mates?” Thomas suddenly snapped. His harsh comment even shocked himself as he watched Jimmy’s small smile instantly drop. Thomas’s body suddenly felt cold and he could feel his shoulders beginning to shake. “Jimmy – I didn’t mean anything –“

The footman’s hand shot upwards, effectively silencing the panicking the under butler. Jimmy swallowed, tasting bile in his mouth but he ignored it and forced himself to face Thomas. “That was – well it was an accident, Thomas! I was very confused and you’re -”

“I understand. It’s fine.” Thomas said quietly, offering Jimmy a small shrug.

Jimmy nodded quickly and swallowed as he placed his hands onto his hips. “Yeah…and now Edna thinks I was bloody forcing myself onto you.”

The tense atmosphere that had built softened as Thomas started to laugh. The man still found Edna’s ridiculous assumption hilarious and his eyes began to water. Raising his good to dab at his eyes, he was startled when a warm, clammy hand was smacked over his mouth.

“Do you want Carson or someone to come running in? Honestly! Shh!” Jimmy warned. “It’s not that bloody funny.”

After giggling one final time, Thomas calmed himself down before he lay down, staring up at Jimmy with flushed cheeks. He received a warm smile from his friend and was surprised when the footman reached towards him to gently stroke a stray hair away from his forehead.

“Sometimes you’re like a child, do you know that?” Jimmy mumbled, more to himself than Thomas. He traced his finger down the under butler’s forehead, past his eyebrows until he reached the top of the man’s straight nose. He grinned and gave Thomas a gentle bop on the tip, chuckling when Thomas scrunched his nose.

The under butler sighed before he declared, “Mr Kent, as much as I do enjoy your company I think I’d like to sleep now.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry I’m – I’m just hovering about,” Jimmy rushed, smiling awkwardly as heat pooled into his cheeks.

“Did you need anything?” Thomas asked gently, stifling a yawn.

“No, I…I can’t remember,” Jimmy answered, shaking his head, “I think I just came in for a chat.”

He took a step back from Thomas and made to leave the room when the under butler called, “take your stinking shoes with you!”

Jimmy whipped around and searched the floor, spotting his abandoned shoes by the armchair. “Ha, I nearly forgot them! Good night, Thomas.”

“G’night,” Thomas mumbled from his bed before he rolled onto his side.

The under butler fell silent so Jimmy took his cue to leave quietly. He carefully shut Mr Barrow’s door and was about to sneak back to his own room when he heard a door open behind him. He almost jumped from fright and his heart began to beat wildly in his chest as he quickly spun around, finding himself face-to-face with Alfred.

“I just snuck downstairs to get some water,” the ginger footman explained sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “What were you doing in Mr Barrow’s room and why are you carrying your shoes?”

Burning rage flared inside of Jimmy like a hot flame and an urgent need to defend his actions sent his temper through the roof. “What do you mean?” He snapped, glaring at Alfred. Whatever the man was trying to imply made Jimmy want to punch him square in the jaw.

Before his eyes, Alfred’s mellow expression shifted into an ugly scowl. “What you getting mad for? I was only asking in case you two were having a secret drink or something, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve seen the both of you coming back from your day’s off with bottles.” After a moment’s pause, Alfred’s left eyebrow rose in suspicion as he considered Jimmy’s flushed cheeks. “Why, were you doing something else?”

Jimmy’s fists curled tighter around his shoes and he squared his shoulders slightly. “We were having one last game of cards and a chat before bed. Neither of us were tired.”

“What you getting mad for then?” Alfred queried, still staring at the blonde man suspiciously.

Jimmy flapped his left shoe at Alfred and snapped, “well everyone keeps being funny about me being alone with him. For Christ sake, he can’t help what he is, can he? We’re just mates and I’m sick of all of the looks people give us, especially the ones from _you_.”

Alfred gaped at him, dumbfounded before he hissed, “we were only worried! Mr Barrow seems fine with you now. I haven’t given you any funny looks for ages. Why are you being so defensive if you weren’t up to anything? Everyone thinks your friends now, even Edna. Edna said that you like Mr Barrow a lot.”

“What has Edna been saying?” Jimmy said darkly, taking a step toward Alfred.

Suddenly, Thomas and Mr Mosely opened their bedroom doors at the same times. The two men stared at the two footman in confusion before they glanced at each other.

“What on earth are you two bickering about? Your both lucky Mr Carson hasn’t come storming out!” Thomas whispered as he frowned at the footmen.

“Is everything alright here?” Mosely asked in a concerned tone.

“Go back to bed, Mr Mosely. I’ll handle this so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Carson tomorrow. I don’t think any of us would fancy him making a meal out of this.” Thomas asked the man calmly.

Mosely blinked before stammering, “oh – oh, I wouldn’t have anyway, Mr Barrow. Good night everyone.” The valet looked rather put-out as he closed his bedroom door.

Thomas turned his attention back to the startled footman. “Right then,” he whispered, “is this little issue about anything of significant importance?”

“Erm, no Mr Barrow,” Alfred answered quietly. “It’s nothing, we were just arguing over cards.”

“Hmm,” the under butler hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Get to bed, do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, sorry Mr Barrow.” Alfred nodded, blushing furiously. “Good night Mr Barrow.”

He scuttled off, leaving Jimmy scowling alone in the dark corridor. Jimmy glanced up at Thomas and saw the under butler staring at him worriedly. He gave Thomas a shrug and muttered, “it wasn’t anything.”

“Are you both still bickering over Ivy?” Thomas whispered, quickly shooting Mr Carson’s door a warning glance. “Never mind, just get to bed.”

“Cheers Thomas, I’ll see you in the morning.” Jimmy smiled, giving the under butler a small wave before he tip-toed to his own room.

The under butler shook his head and closed his door but Jimmy had seen the small, playful smile that had played upon the corners of his red lips. Thomas was very handsome when he smiled and Jimmy thought that it was a shame he didn’t smile more.

Lying in his bed moments later, Jimmy pondered his relationship with Thomas. He couldn’t understand his own constant need to touch Thomas, to run his fingers through his hair. Surely it wasn’t too peculiar to…envision oneself kissing a friend, a male friend. It wasn’t too strange to harbour natural curiosity when your friend is a living, breathing homosexual whose lips felt so very soft against your own. For years, a long running joke had been that queers knew how to pleasure a man better because they were men too. That all of them were whores, that they all craved the touch of another man. Other men must have dabbled with them, had a little taste to see what all the fuss was about. Some men were pretty, androgynous and fine featured. Thomas was a unique combination of raw masculinity and delicate, other-worldly beauty. He was tall, broad shouldered and strong, whilst also being slender, prettily pale and beautiful, like an oil painting. You could put Thomas’s features onto a woman and she would be perfect, the most beautiful woman in the world.

“ _That’s why I fancy him!_ ” he whispered to himself, his heart racing from the revelation.

Then suddenly, he froze.

_‘Fancy him.’_

_‘Fancy him.’_

_‘Fancy him…’_

“No,” he swallowed, shaking his head wildly against his pillow. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he continued to quietly protest, whispering screams to himself, the air, everyone, everything. “No, fucking no, _I’m no queer!”_

Icy crawled over his veins, chilling his entire body and soon he began to shake violently. He couldn’t be like Thomas, he couldn’t at all. He had fancied Ivy, he had fancied Jenny the maid, the grocer’s daughter, the lass from York, hell even Lady Anstruther. Women were so beautiful, so soft skinned, they had sweet voices and incredible minds. Yet…he had once stared at Tom Branson when he had caught a cheeky glimpse of him topless in the garage. The bloody Irish mick still liked to play chauffer on occasion, helping out in the garage with the new bloke, whatever his name was again even though he had a place at the damned high table. His biceps had bulged when he had picked up a heavy box and passed it to what’s-his-face. He had once ogled a farm worker who had bent over a wall to reach for his cap. His old school friend, Anthony, had been quite a handsome child and Jimmy used to like wrestling with him, holding him down as he watched the boy writhe beneath him. None of them were as attractive to him as Thomas, damaged hand and all. He had looked incredible when Jimmy had envisioned Thomas on his knees, pleasuring him as though his life depended on bringing Jimmy to a conclusion. He had looked magnificent when he had…rode himself on Jimmy, his head tipped back and his red lips parted as he moaned loudly.

_“Oh fuck…”_ Jimmy whispered tearfully, “I’m…a like bloody…bloody well both?”

He felt a little silly when he burst into tears but he was alone, nobody else knew and he wanted to cry. Men were always told not to cry, that it was a womanly thing to do. Boys who cried were cowards, pathetic, weak. Still, there were moments when tears were needed. Jimmy needed to cry.

 

* * *

 

 

_He was floating on a cloud. The cloud was very soft, softer than anything he had ever touched and it was gently bobbing him up and down. He felt relaxed, happy and calm. A flock of golden pigeons flew overhead and he had never seen such beautiful pigeons before, normally they were ugly birds. Swans were prettier but these pigeons were something else. Suddenly, Mrs Hughes cartwheeled across the sky and thankfully her skirts remained intact -  he did not want to see her drawers, ever._

“Thomas, wake up please,” Jimmy’s voice breathed in his ear.

_His cloud started to fall…_

“Thomas, I just need to tell you one thing!”

_Fingers caressed his spine. Where had his cloud gone?_

_“Mr Barrow, psst!”_

* * *

 

 

Lying shirtless on his bed, Thomas was beginning to stir. Jimmy placed his hand on his shoulder and gasped when he felt the man’s soft skin beneath his fingertips. Without thinking, Jimmy began to trace patterns around the top of Thomas’s shoulders, his neck and his back until the under butler began to mumble.

“Where’s my cloud?” he yawned, rolling onto his front whilst rubbing his eyes.

“Thomas?” Jimmy whispered, patting the side of his neck.

“Shit! Fucking hell - bugger!” Thomas cried, jolting as his eyes flew open. “ _Jimmy!_ You almost caused me to have a blooming heart attack! What the bloody hell do you want?”

Jimmy smiled apologetically and sat on the edge of Thomas’s bed, close to the man’s chest. “What did you mean when you asked where your cloud was?”

“Never you mind,” Thomas huffed. He yawned again and turned to stare at his alarm clock. “Oh Jimmy, it’s nearly two in the morning for Pete’s sake!”

“We’ve stayed up later than this before and we’ve been fine. Listen, I –“ Jimmy started before he was interrupted.

“Well no wonder we’re always bloody tired,” Thomas huffed grumpily. For good measure, he crossed his arms across his chest and pouted, effectively proving his point.

Jimmy sighed and leaned slightly closer to his friend. “I’m sorry that I’ve woken you up but I forgot to tell you about tonight’s dinner.”

“It’s yesterday’s dinner now,” Thomas corrected him haughtily. He was moody from being rudely woken up and decided that he would be petty.

Jimmy rolled his eyes, “Oh shush. I watched Mr Branson at dinner, you see. I was looking to see if he would behave oddly or if I could see any clues that he was out of sorts. He wasn’t, he behaved perfectly normally. So I reckon that Edna hasn’t attempted to speak to him yet and I don’t think that she’s approached him.” He smiled proudly, “I tried to think like you, you see.” Waiting for praise, he continued to smile.

He did not receive a smile in return. Instead, Thomas glared at him and snapped, “so?”

Stung, Jimmy recoiled slightly. He had expected Thomas to tell him that he did well. The under butler would have then started to formulate a new plan and Jimmy would listen intently.

“You woke me up to tell me that? That could have waited until morning! You ruined my dream. Go away and go to sleep, you pest.” Thomas groaned, rolling himself back over, pulling his covers over himself as he did. Now only the top of his hair was visible.

Jimmy snorted and gave Thomas’s side a gentle rub. “Well I now not to awaken the beast before his time. Sorry, I was just excited. I’ll let you sleep.”

“Too right,” Thomas mumbled. “I was floating on a cloud before and now I’m not.”

Jimmy smiled fondly and patted the man’s blankets softly. “Oh dear, I’m very sorry. Where was your cloud?”

“In the blooming sky, where else would it be?” Thomas retorted pettily.

Jimmy laughed again and scratched the side of his chin, feeling stubble growing at the top of his neck. He would need a shave in the morning. He leaned closer and whispered into the visible patch of black hair, “good point, you’re right. What else could you see in your dream?”

“Golden pigeons and they were pretty. And Mrs Hughes cartwheeling through the air but her skirt didn’t fall down to her knees, thank god.” Thomas muttered sleepily.

Jimmy’s eyebrows furrowed and he ran his tongue across the top of his teeth as he tried to picture such a scene. He couldn’t. “Right, well that’s my que to leave. See you tomorrow.” Before he knew it, Jimmy planted a kiss onto the top of Thomas’s hair.

“I’m not a baby!” Thomas whined as he tried to twist his body around to face Jimmy again so he could glare at him.

“You’re acting like one. Before I go, why is your shirt on the floor?” Jimmy asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched Thomas fight with his blankets.

“Too hot,” he groaned as he kicked his legs about under the covers. “I’m bloody stuck!”

“Goodnight Thomas,” Jimmy whispered as he rose from the bed. He quickly strode across the room and opened the door.

“I’d kill you if I weren’t stuck in these damn sheets!” Thomas snapped as he continued to tug at the multiple layers of fabric that clung to his body.

“Night,” Jimmy said quietly, silently closing the man’s door.

 

Once Jimmy was back in his own bed, he vowed to disturb Thomas from his sleep more often just so he could see the man pout one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this.  
> Please feel free to leave a comment, critique the story, speculate - anything (just no nasty business).
> 
> Now, this story won't be plain sailing just yet, not for awhile.  
> Jimmy will have a difficult time with his bisexuality so be patient with him. He's going to say some stupid things and he'll continue to be an idiot.
> 
> Sometimes Thomas is going to be as wise as time itself, other times he will be stroppy, petty child. Be patient with him too, he's as much of an idiot as Jimmy.
> 
> I just want to take a moment to say that I do greatly appreciate every kudos, every comment and every criticism.  
> Those who have been loyal to his story move me, you really do.  
> Thank you for your support.


	16. Tough Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy gives Thomas a few home truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too busy at the moment so hopefully I can upload a few chapters before the end of the month.  
> I've got a few weddings, family parties, etc at the start of October so another long absence might be coming up.
> 
> For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_Clouds truly were very comfortable. He felt safe cocooned in the white, fluffy mist as he floated high up in the sky. Next to him also wrapped in the soft cotton-like wisps was the man himself, Thomas. He wasn’t asleep, he was only daydreaming with his eyes closed. His skin was glowing slightly in the silver sunlight that shone high above them in their sky. Jimmy reached forward and tapped the tip of his nose gently, grinning to himself when Thomas opened his blue eyes._

_“Do you like living on our cloud?” Jimmy asked happily._

_Thomas smiled sweetly and stretched his arms above his head as he yawned. “I never want to leave.”_

_“Then we won’t. Come up here and kiss me.” Jimmy ordered him gently._

_Thomas smile grew wider and he nodded, pulling his body into a kneeling position. He leant forward and closed his eyes, fanning his dark eyelashes across his pale cheeks. Slowly, very slow, he placed his red lips over Jimmy’s –_

 

“Time to get up!” Ivy called from outside of his door.

Jimmy almost choked on his own tongue as he jolted from fright. “Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, blinking numerous times until he caught up with his awakened body. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he felt a fresh wave of panic wash over him as all of his thoughts from the previous night flooded into his mind. He liked men. He was attracted to men. Was he? A rush of nausea made his stomach summersault and he felt dizzy. He couldn’t believe it, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t be attracted to men – to Thomas, could he? At least not in a serious way. The mind is a complex thing; it has a brain all of its own. Dreams meant nothing, they were nonsense. Surely he was just confused, lonely; simply curious about experiencing the other sex. He was close with Thomas, their friendship was perhaps a little too intimate and Jimmy really liked kissing him but…why did that have to paint him _lavender?_ Did it? A spiteful voice in his mind whispered, “ _but you liked kissing him! You’ve imagined yourself with him!”_

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. He liked women. He liked the feeling of a woman’s body against his. He liked the way women smelled, the softness of their hair and the way their bodies would welcome a man home during sex. They were so beautiful, so sweet. Christ, he had almost fallen in love with that maid Jenny. He thought he was going to propose to her and that they would run off to London together. He was going to join a jazz band and she was going to join an illicit burlesque club, the one she was always raving about. Jenny had been fantastic, an utter gem of a woman. She was wild, utterly mad and flaunted her raw sexuality without shame. Unfortunately, Jimmy had to leave the Anstruther’s. He didn’t even both writing to Jenny. Should he have? He was terrible at keeping in contact. He used to dream of Jenny, surely that counted for something? It was proof that he definitely liked women…but now he dreamt of Thomas.

“I like women.” He whispered aloud, thumping the side of his bed in frustration.

He could still appreciate an attractive male physique and fancy women, of course he could, couldn’t he? He could appreciate the lines of a male body, the muscles, the angular edges. He could admire a man’s narrow hips, the way Thomas’s arse sways when he walks - _“stop it!”_

As his frustration built, Jimmy could only see red. In desperation his hands flew into his hair and he began to tug at the strands wildly, pulling out clumps of hair. It wasn’t possible for him to fancy men! What did it matter if he had liked looking at his childhood friend? Did it matter if he had admired Tom Branson’s muscular back? He did not find Thomas attractive in any way except…except for what? If he didn’t fancy Thomas, why did he keep looking at him? Why did he always find himself staring at the pale man, admiring his skin, his features, his hair, his body? What had his visions meant? His fantasy of Thomas kneeling before him on the train as he pleasured him, his tongue gently lapping against the underside of his cock. The man’s eyelashes had fanned out so prettily against his cheeks the sight had taken Jimmy’s breath away. The fantasy he had of Thomas riding him on the rocking chair, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he moaned loudly above him. He had clutched tightly onto Jimmy’s shoulders as he bobbed himself up and down whilst beads of sweat drew patterns across his pale chest.

God, he could picture Thomas now, except this time Thomas was underneath him on the bed. He was naked. If this situation was real, then the bed would squeak too much; it could barely even take his own weight so that was a terrible idea. He could have Thomas over his desk where he could pound him into the wood. Thomas might like that. He could even have Thomas sit on the top of his desk where Jimmy could wrap the under butler’s long legs around his waist. He could look at Thomas’s face that way. Perhaps Thomas wouldn’t even care what position he ended up in or where Jimmy would make love to him, he would be happy with anything.

 

“ _You want to make love to him, love!_ ” Cried the nasty little voice in his head.

 

“Fuck off!”

 

_Knock, knock._

 

“Jimmy, are you awake? Are you sick?” Alfred called from outside of his door. “Mr Carson sent me to fetch you. You’re missing breakfast and he’s not happy, neither is Mrs Patmore.”

Alfred Nugent was the last person on God’s green earth that he wanted standing outside of this door. Jimmy wasn’t even dressed yet.

“Er – I’m on my way! Could you tell Mr Carson that I had to trim my hair a little because it looks too untidy? I wouldn’t want the Dowager to see me so ungroomed.” Jimmy shouted as he carefully pulled himself out of his bed.

“Oh, alright. He’ll still tell you off though, he’s livid.”

“Fair enough,” Jimmy shouted back. He would have to make sure his hair looked especially neat today or he would be in serious trouble. He silently thanked himself for laying out his uniform last night before he finally went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Mr Carson was about to take another bite out of his buttered toast when he caught sight of a blushing James Kent sliding into the servant’s hall. He eyed him carefully, checking for evidence that Jimmy had taken it upon himself to have an extra fifteen minutes’ sleep. The young man did look very neat and his hair was combed well. He would do.

“I see you have decided to finally join us, James.” Carson greeted him coldly. “Alfred has told me that you needed to trim your hair? Well it certainly does look tidier.”

Jimmy pulled his chair out, slightly annoyed that he was not able to sit closer to Thomas as he answered, “I apologise for being late Mr Carson. My hair has grown quickly recently and it looked particularly unruly. I didn’t want to Dowager to see me with messy hair tonight.”

The butler eyed him with suspicion but on the whole the man seemed mollified. “Don’t let this happen again. I won’t accept tardiness regardless of the reason. See to it that you visit a barber as soon as possible. You have this Friday afternoon off, am I correct?”

“Yes Mr Carson, I was already planning on having my hair cut then.” Jimmy replied politely.

“Very good. You can clean the silver tonight instead of Alfred, James. I want to more late appearances at breakfast, that goes for all of you.” The butler warned, pausing to glance at every servant sat at the table.

“Yes, Mr Carson,” Thomas chipped in cheekily as he sipped his tea.

Jimmy and Mr Bates had to hide their smirks as the butler fixed Thomas with an irritated look. Jimmy began to tuck into a bowl of porridge, offering Ivy a sly wink when she served him which made the girl blush, although she tipped his chin at him in a haughty fashion. She was still miffed with him then. Grinning to himself, he caught Anna’s eye and shrugged at her when she gave him an amused knowing look. The maid shook her head, exchanging a significant smirk with her husband. Jimmy felt included and happy, content to sit and enjoy the other servant’s company after his crisis earlier. Just when he felt his spirits lifting, he could feel a pair of eyes boring into him. Looking to his left, he saw Edna starting intently at him. The rest of the staff clearly didn’t notice as nobody made a comment, nobody stared back at her and Jimmy and nobody asked the maid if she had a problem. Mr Mosley chatted to Anna, Mrs Hughes laughed at something Thomas said. Mr Bates was distracted by his cufflinks. Alfred drank deeply from his tea cup, smacking his lips happily when he was done. Nobody noticed the cold, hard glint in Edna’s eye as she sneered at Jimmy. His blood ran cold, he felt disorientated and he felt afraid. This petite blonde was trouble. She was going to make trouble for him.

Lady Grantham’s bell rang, followed by Lady Edith’s and then Lady Rose’s. Servants began to rise as they continued to chatter. Everyone was prepared for the day ahead.

“Come on Jimmy,” Alfred said over his shoulder, giving Jimmy a strange look. “What you sitting there for?”

He blinked. Rising to his feet, he felt as though his mind was detached from his body. He followed the other footman slowly as he considered the plan that Thomas had created to get rid of Edna. He needed to somehow convince her that Tom Branson held a candle for her. She needed to be forward, to overstep her mark so that she could be fired. Mr Branson would likely be top forgiving and too considerate of Edna’s delicate position as he too was once a member of the working classes. He would feel too guilty if he was the one to complain. He was close to Lady Mary now. Hopefully he will speak to her and then, as Thomas said, she would definitely complain.

He continued to think through the plan when a light tap on his shoulder brought him back into reality.

“James, can I quickly borrow you for a moment?” Thomas asked him, quickly nodding at Alfred who had turned around.

“Yes, Mr Barrow. How can I help?” Jimmy smiled, relieved that he would be able to speak to Thomas. 

Thomas indicated for the footman to follow him down the side corridor. “I’m doing a quick inventory check for Carson.”

“Oh yes, I bought some more brown thread for Anna the other day.” Jimmy lied, speaking louder than necessary so that Alfred would not be suspicious.

 “Oh good, thanks.” Thomas smiled as he opened the supply cupboard door. Once they were inside, Thomas quickly shut the door and turn to face Jimmy. “Are you alright? You looked funny after breakfast. You sat there in a daze.”

 “Edna smiled at me!” Jimmy whispered angrily. “She smirked at me.”

 Thomas cocked his head slightly to the left as he considered Jimmy. “I smirk at you all the time. What’s wrong with her smirking at you? She’s blackmailing you, what else do you expect?”

 “I winked at Ivy when she poured me some porridge. I was just being cheeky for a laugh. Edna gave me a look and she smirked.” Jimmy said, close to pleading with Thomas to make him understand. “What if she makes a comment or something? Thomas, if Mr Carson or Mrs Patmore or anyone catches wind of any potential funny business, we’ll both be done for!”

 Thomas swallowed and inhaled through his nose as his jaw clenched. He remained silent so Jimmy continued, “If Edna tells Mr Carson or Mrs Hughes that she saw…”

 She saw them kissing. She saw Jimmy pinning Thomas beneath him, pressing him into the floor. He had run his hands all over Thomas’s body. He had been all over Thomas, kissing him and touching him. He hadn’t even given the man much of a choice in the matter. He had kissed him, explored him and to make matters worse, they had been in the dining hall! The place where all of the servant’s congregate. The place where they eat. Jimmy could have buggered Thomas over the damn table.

 Jimmy had initiated that. How ridiculous that he only realised the weight of this revelation now. He had pushed the blame away; he had refused to thoroughly think it through. Thomas had crept into his room to kiss him in the past but that was somewhat sweet, it was gentle. Thomas had simply placed his lips over his, gently and he had barely applied any pressure. He allowed Jimmy to wake up and reciprocate on his own accord. If he had of returned Thomas’s kiss, he realised that Thomas would have let him take over. Jimmy would have called the shots and it would have been up to him whether he kissed Thomas harder, whether he asked for more. Thomas would have submitted everything to him, his body, his soul. He had loved Jimmy.

He didn’t pin him down like Jimmy had done to him.

Jimmy didn’t let Thomas choose and he gave him no options. He just took, he didn’t give.

 Focusing on the under butler’s face, he saw that Thomas had turned white. He also appeared to be shaking slightly but trying his best not to make it obvious. Jimmy did not know what to say to the man.

A few moments passed and Jimmy was about to speak when Thomas cut him off.

 “Jimmy, I know that we said we would leave it but…I can’t just forget something like that, not like you can. You can’t…you can’t expect me too either. We do keep ignoring things and not discussing things. You’ve kissed me more than and once and I know that it’s nothing, you aren’t like me.” Thomas rushed as a blush coloured his pale cheeks.

 “Look, I –“ Jimmy tried to explain but under butler didn’t hear him.

“You know how I felt – well, how I feel about you. I can’t just,” Thomas waved his arm, trying to find the right words. “I can’t just suddenly not feel these things. I can’t blow out a flame or turn off my sexuality. Sometimes I wish I could. Everything would be easier if I was normal.” The man’s expression fell and he looked genuinely crestfallen.

 Jimmy’s heart ached for his friend and he wished he could pull him into his arms to comfort him. He could stroke his hair. Thomas seemed to like it whenever Jimmy stroked his hair. The words ‘if I was normal’ began to replay over and over in Jimmy’s mind and he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, making him shiver.

“Thomas, you are normal! The way I behaved after that night…O’Brien…Thomas, I’m ashamed. I’m deeply ashamed and it haunts me, it truly does. My head had been filled with all sorts of crap about people like you. I had always assumed...” Jimmy trailed off as he felt another cold chill slide down his back.

“Oh I know what people say. I’ve had it all my life. Nobody told me better than my own bastard of a father.” Thomas hissed darkly as his mouth twisted bitterly. “I know what I am to people - to people in this house!”

“Thomas! Stop it,” Jimmy snapped as he stared in horror at the under butler. “Just you stop that talk now. Yes, people have their opinions and I know Carson was harsh with you. That’s to be expected. Mrs Patmore makes her comments but in all truth Thomas, she teases everyone. She doesn’t particularly care, not really. Alfred thought you were the devil but after he saw how humble you could be and how downtrodden you were, I think he realised that you were human after all, not some kind of monster from a horror story, like the shite you like you read.”

“My books aren’t shite.” Thomas sniffed as a small smile began to tease the corner of his mouth.

Jimmy’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Mrs Hughes showed you sympathy. You drive her round the bend but I think she feels protective over you now. She saw you at your worst – emotionally, not action wise. She stuck by you. Mr Bates, the man you tried to boot saved your job here. He took your side immediately, not mine. In fact, I think he would take your side now. He speaks nicely enough to me but I don’t think he’d think much if I was chucked out. Anna has reservations over whether you’re trustworthy, not because you like other men. Do you blame her?”

Thomas turned his face away as his mouth tightened. No, he did not blame her.

“Mr Mosley just doesn’t like you, it’s a well-known fact. Actually, I’m not sure if he knows of your preferences. Who knows? Daisy and Ivy are obviously clueless, as per usual. Daisy might have inkling but I don’t think she would care. She’d likely just be shocked, maybe a little appalled but then she wouldn’t care. Mrs Patmore would set her straight if she blurted anything.” Jimmy assured, vividly picturing the scenario in his mind. He continued, “The hall boys probably have no clue but they’re just frightened of you because you snap at them. The day maids barely speak to anyone so they’ll probably have no idea. One of the lasses watches you sometimes so I think she fancies you a bit.” An ugly lurch of jealousy flipped his stomach. Oh he was _not_ feeling jealous over a silly maid.

Thomas just shrugged and stubbornly refused to speak. He was chewing on the corner of his mouth, still refusing to look Jimmy in the eye.

“The Crawley’s have obviously kept you. I bet you a fiver that they all know. Lord Grantham clearly didn’t particularly care, none of them did. They were more concerned about a scandal. I was actually miffed about that at the time because once again, the toffs prove to be more bothered by their own lives than a servant’s. Still, I reckon that Lord Grantham and Lady Mary haven’t been the same with me since. I think Lady Mary likes you a lot, although I doubt she’ll ever admit it. I think it’s because she purposely asks you about things because she knows you’ll say something witty. I think she sees a bit of herself in you.” Jimmy persisted, amazed at his own skills of observation. A small niggling feeling was telling him that throughout this, everyone appeared to prefer Thomas over him and his side was taken. That stung a little but he couldn’t admit it, not when he himself even chose Thomas.

Thomas nodded slowly but he didn’t appear fully convinced. “Are you done?”

Jimmy shrugged, leaning his weight onto his left side. “Yes, I suppose. I can pick up on a lot more than you think, you know.”

“I know you can!” Thomas said, looking slightly affronted. He was feeling very sensitive and immediately became defensive. He knew it was daft of him to feel so put-out when Jimmy was only trying to help him. Why did he feel so irritated by someone explaining to him that nobody hated him?

Jimmy frowned and crossed his arms, considering Thomas with a stern frown. “I can see the cogs turning in that head of yours. Do you know what your problem is? You’ve become so paranoid, understandably, that you don’t like not being the victim. You can never just take anything on the chin; you’ve always got to look for problems that aren’t there. You never just move on, you just continue to mistrust everyone.”

“What nonsense!” Thomas snapped but Jimmy could see that the man knew Jimmy was right, he was just being stubborn, purposely denying everything and for what?

“It’s not nonsense though, is it?” Jimmy questioned him in an icy tone. His patience was wearing thin. No wonder the others were so fed up with him. “You dig yourself bigger holes then you complain about how hard your life is. Nobody here is perfect Thomas and yes, people have done you wrong. I’m an example, aren’t I? Have you ever wondered why? Fair enough I was just being a pig but the others?”

Thomas began to shake slightly again and he looked ill, as though he wanted to be sick. It pained Jimmy to be the one to force this onto the man but he had to hear it. If Jimmy was to be a true friend then he needed to be honest. That fact terrified him.

Taking a quick breath to calm his nerves, Jimmy prepared to soldier on. “Thomas, you’re not always a nice person. To most people you’re actually a bit of a bastard but you know that. Yet despite this, Mrs Hughes would defend you to the earth and back if she could. Mrs Patmore still teases you to have a laugh. Anna still offers to help you and she does care, she just doesn’t trust you. Daisy still worries about you despite everything. I think that the Crawley’s would genuinely feel some sadness if you were ever…I don’t know, if you were ever in trouble or upset or something. I think even Mr Carson would care a bit. Maybe a lot, who knows? Mr Bates saved your neck and once and I think he would stupidly do it again because that’s what separates the both of you. You’re as dark as each other and you both have a bit of streak in you but why is he considered more trustworthy and likeable? Have you asked yourself that question?”

Thomas’s shaking was more obvious and his mouth wobbled slightly. Jimmy took a step forward and was relieved when Thomas didn’t move away. Feeling guilty for his harsh words, Jimmy took another calming breathe.

“It’s because he can be the bigger man, Thomas. He can put aside his feelings for someone in order to defend someone. You can’t. If it was the other way around and Bates was the queer fellow who kissed me, you would have let him leave. You wouldn’t have tried to help him. You would have sat back, kept quiet and probably would have felt a little guilt later. Maybe.” Jimmy told him, surprising himself with how firm his voice was. He felt his eyes widen and his stomach tighten as he saw Thomas crumble a little, a clear step away from breaking down.

“Yeah,” Thomas whispered, almost choking on the air. Pathetically, he was close to tears. He felt like he was world’s stupidest bastard. Maybe he was.

“Hey,” Jimmy coaxed him softly. “Do you think I’m trying to hurt you? Do you think I’m telling you this to make you feel worthless? I’m your friend.”

He reached his arm out and took Thomas’s gloved hand into his own as he offered the under butler a smile. Thomas did not move, he just continued to shake.

“Thomas, I’m telling you this so that you can realise that it’s you who does most of the damage. You have so much good in you, more than anyone else here would know.” Jimmy smiled. “Once you let someone in you can be the most generous, protective, kind friend anyone could ask for. You’re so loyal when you feel people deserve your loyalty. You’ve got a touch outer shell, Mr Barrow but underneath your as soft as the cloud you dreamed of.”

The corners of Thomas’s mouth twitched but he still would not look at Jimmy. The footman would not give in so Jimmy took hold of Thomas’s chin with his other hand and forced the under butler to meet his gaze. He was close enough to kiss the man.

“You are lovable and you deserve love. Do you know who else does? Everyone here.” Jimmy told him, boring into Thomas to make him see the truth. “Everyone here deserves your love because you’re too blind to see that you have theirs. Caring for someone is a funny thing but already I see that you’re family. You’re the frustrating little brother or troublesome cousin but you’re still family. I don’t think I’m considered family yet, not since people still haven’t quite forgiven me for plotting against you with O’Brien. Again, I am so sorry for it. So sorry Thomas, you don’t even know.”

The under butler’s eyes began to water and he quickly jerked his face out of Jimmy’s grip. He did not want to cry in front of his friend. He never wanted to cry in front of anyone as he detested feeling weak, pathetic, vulnerable. It could make him a target.

“Hey,” Jimmy said softly, chuckling fondly at Thomas’s tears. “You see? The fact that you’re upset shows that you do have a heart. You are upset by this, all of it. That’s because deep down you are about them just as much. You don’t have a biological, not really?”

“No,” Thomas choked as he blinked away his tears. “I’ve not heard from any of them.”

“Then you need to make yourself a family here. Your family already is here, you just need to find your family members yourself.” Jimmy smiled. He began to rub soothing circles onto Thomas’s fingers, which he seemed to enjoy since Thomas’s didn’t flinch or pull his hand away. “It’s time for you to change your attitude, Thomas. Not everyone likes you yet, some don’t even love you yet but they do care. I love you, of course.”

Thomas finally laughed, he genuinely laughed at how sweet Jimmy’s words were. They were bittersweet but he had never been shown such tender kindness before, not since Mrs Hughes took him inside after he cried alone in the rain. He felt a sudden rush of affection bubble inside of him as he thought of the housekeeper’s kind, matronly face. He felt another rush of love when he concentrated on Jimmy. He looked down at his hand, his bandaged hand, that was currently being held between the footman’s fine, nimble fingers. His hand looked right being held by Jimmy’s.

“Let me give you a hug,” Jimmy offered. “Please.”

Thomas laughed again and pulled his hand away from Jimmy’s, shaking his head. “I might be blubbering but I’m not a baby, stop coddling me!”

“I want to coddle you. Let me give you a hug.” Jimmy repeated calmly.

Thomas stubbornly tried to move past the smaller man but the corners of his red mouth were turned upwards. “I don’t need a blooming hug. Come on, we need to get on.”

Jimmy put his arm out to stop Thomas from barrelling past him. “Not until you give me a hug. My mother told me that you should hug the people you love after a confrontation because you need to show affection afterwards.”

“It’s not like we were bawling at each other. I need to speak to Mr Carson and I need to speak to Mrs Patmore.” Thomas argued. “Out of my way, come on.”

“Give me hug.” Jimmy insisted as he reached forward to latch onto the man’s waist. “I’m going to force you.”

Thomas immediately thought of Edna and the conclusion she had reached that Jimmy had attempted to have his way with him. “I’m not consenting to this, Mr Kent.” He laughed when the footman pulled his against his chest but he purposely tried to pull away again to irritate Jimmy.

“Stop wriggling and hug your friend!” Jimmy cried, “honestly!”

He relented. Thomas allowed himself to be pulled closer and he smiled when he felt Jimmy wrap his arms around his waist. All Thomas could do was lean against the footman, resting his head on his shoulder. Jimmy began to rub his back gently, to which Thomas protested, “I told you I’m not a baby.”

“Oh shut up,” Jimmy tutted, rolling his eyes. “Just let me hold you for a minute, for god’s sake.”

“I am,” Thomas mumbled into Jimmy’s neck. He carefully sniffed as he curious to know what the scent of Jimmy’s soap was. He smelled like peppermint. “You smell minty.” He noted quietly, more to himself.

Jimmy snorted, smiling at how childlike Thomas sounded. “Oh yeah, I saw this mint smelling aftershave and I thought I’d try it. Do I smell like toothpaste?”

“A bit,” Thomas yawned against him, nuzzling against Jimmy’s shoulder.

“See, you like the hug. You make such a fuss whenever people are kind to you. Is that because you’re afraid to be close to people? You fear it’s too good to be true?” Jimmy whispered as he began to rake his fingers through Thomas’s soft hair.

“I suppose.” Thomas muttered. An urge to defend himself, a need to snap, a wish to run; they consumed him once again, confusing him as a hundred different emotions swirled inside of him. “Jimmy, I think I do have a problem with…how do I word this? I think I don’t take criticism well?”

“You don’t take compliments well either,” Jimmy snorted as he slowly peeled himself away from his friend. “Sorry, I just want to see your face. Thomas, you definitely do not take criticism well, not at all.”

Thomas swallowed and nodded slowly, remaining silent as he allowed Jimmy to speak. Even though he felt embarrassed and awkward, he appreciated everything that Jimmy had told him. He needed to hear this, he had wanted to hear this ever since he was a young footman, he had but he had never known how to ask for it. He had never known who to turn to or who to trust. Jimmy Kent truly was the greatest friend he had ever had.

“Come on mate, chin up,” Jimmy smiled. “Give me a smile, eh?”

Thomas flashed him a quick half-smile and moved past him to open the door. Quickly glancing down the corridor he was relieved to see that it was still empty. He sighed and turned his head to ask, “Jimmy, did you need to tell me anything by the way?”

The footman shook his head, “nah, not really, just that we need to get rid of Edna as soon as possible. She’s a liability and she’s a danger to both of us. If she doesn’t go, we could. That’s if she ever decides to tell Carson or someone that you and I might be carrying on with each other.”

“I thought I was a victim in this?” Thomas smirked, closing the door quickly. “I thought I was pounced upon in the dining hall? You leapt on me like a shameless heathen, determined to force yourself onto me.”

“I’ll pounce on you right now and force a black eye onto your face.” Jimmy cautioned Thomas, cocking his left eyebrow.

The under butler snorted, “well I best be off.”

“Some of us have work to do.” Jimmy teased, grinning.

 

* * *

 

Soon, three days past and Jimmy continued to bide his time. He continued to keep an eye on both Edna and Mr Branson, watching them carefully in case he spotted anything remotely strange occur between the pair. The maid often glanced at Mr Branson but Jimmy had never seen her approach him. The widower barely even seemed to notice the maid which was good news for Branson but bad luck for Jimmy. He was growing more and more impatient and he eagerly anticipated the day when the cow would finally be sacked. It was also frustrating for Jimmy to keep his distance from Thomas. He missed their secret glances and the jokes they would share throughout the day whenever they passed each other in the corridors. Alfred was alright company but Jimmy would always tire of him soon, besides the lad spent most of his time hanging around Ivy. The hall boys were too young and childish to be considered fun, the other men were boring and the women were dull. Nobody was as clever or as funny as Thomas. When Thomas was relaxed, he was filled with witticisms and nothing was sacred to him; he was a true iconoclast.

“James!” A familiar voice suddenly hissed behind him. Speak of the devil.

Jimmy turned and saw Thomas waving at him to join him in one of the guest bedrooms. Jimmy quickly slipped into the room and gave the man a smile.

“Jimmy, I saw Edna slip a note under Branson’s door. I don’t think that she knows he is out with Lord Grantham and Lady Mary today. They have an appointment somewhere, most likely agency work or something.” Thomas whispered excitedly. “I’ve got it here. If we quickly read it now, then I can slip it back under his door.”

Jimmy also leaped into the air, he was so excited. The letter could be a breakthrough for their plan and he couldn’t believe how brazen the maid was. He hopped from foot to foot as he watched Thomas unfolding the white paper, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Hurry up!” Jimmy urged, practically bouncing off the walls of the bedroom.

“Well,” Thomas clucked, “Edna’s not the brightest spark after all if she thinks this tosh will work.”

The two men stared down at the neat handwriting on the letter.

 

_Tom,_

_You are better than this. You deserve better and you could be free if you allowed yourself to be free. You’re lost and you’re unsure about your place in this household, I can see it._

“That’s it?” Jimmy whined, “I was hoping for a bit more.”

“It’s perfect,” Thomas breathed. “Jimmy, she’s playing on his greatest weakness. Mr Branson is unsure of his place, surely you must have noticed? Lady Sybil has died. He is not tied to the Crawley’s by blood, he was born into a working class family and he used to be the chauffer here. He’s been left alone with a child, a child who will be born between her father’s lower class Irish roots and her mother’s English nobility.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened and he nodded in amazement. “Of course! It should have been obvious.”

“You’ll be dressing Branson later for dinner, won’t you? The Dowager is coming around again.” Thomas asked as his brows knitted into a frown.

“Yeah, I’ll be helping him dress. What should I do?” Jimmy whispered excitedly.

Thomas’s frown deepened. “Hmm. Ask him if everything is alright. Say that he seems a little down at the moment.”

Jimmy nodded, “I can do that.”

The under butler smiled warmly as he looked into Jimmy’s glowing face. He looked as excited as a schoolboy who had gained entry into a secret playground club. A part of Thomas wished that he could lean forwards to capture his plump pink lips with his own but that was out of the question. Jimmy may have kissed him but the man was just confused. He didn’t know what he was doing. Thomas could never risk making such a dangerous error ever again, not if he wanted to remain under butler, which he did. He had the privilege and honour of being Jimmy Kent’s friend and that was enough.

 

Mr Branson was unsettled and jumpy as Jimmy tried to help him dress for dinner. The Irishman point blank refused to be valeted properly, he would only allow Jimmy to offer him and advice and help with his cufflinks. Normally this would be an insult to servants, especially to a footman who wished to advance but Jimmy couldn’t care less, not when it meant that he had half an hour to sit on a comfy plush stool doing bugger all. He wondered how he should approach the subject of Mr Branson’s behaviour. “ _It’s probably just best to ask him directly, no beating around the bush_ ,” he thought.

“Is everything alright, Mr Branson?” Jimmy asked loudly, offering the man a concerned smile.

Branson stared at him for a moment before he stammered, “Yes – yes, I’m fine, James.” He swallowed thickly and returned his attention to his bow tie.

“I’m sorry Sir, I was just concerned. You seem a little out of sorts, if I may say so.” Jimmy continued delicately, aware that he possibly wading into dark waters.

Branson shrugged and shot him a quick smile. “I suppose I just feel a little bit…lost at the moment I suppose.”

It was time to go in for the kill. He was going to be incredibly forward; all decorum would be lost. If Mr Carson were to hear him the man would have a fit. “We have a new maid, Edna,” Jimmy began. “She mentioned in passing this morning that she saw how sad you looked. I’ve seen you around today myself Mr Branson and you do look lost. I just want you to know that the servants are thinking of you during this difficult time.”

Branson turned and gave the footman a queer look, clearly bemused by his words. “The new maid spoke of me?”

“Yes Sir,” Jimmy nodded slowly.

“Right.” Branson said tightly as he continued to fix his bow tie. “James, please don’t tell anyone else that I asked you this but…does she mention me often?”

“Sometimes Sir,” Jimmy smiled as he nodded again. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping my mark but…is there a problem? If you don’t want her to talk about you, I could mention it to Mrs Hughes. She will let her down gently.”

Branson tilted his head to the side whilst he listened to Jimmy. The man had a strange look in his eye but the rest of his face was a blank mask, not unlike the expression usually worn by Thomas. Once Jimmy finished, he nodded and quickly stole himself as he glanced about his bedroom awkwardly.

“James – Jimmy, I’m going to show you something in confidence. I wonder if you could help me with something.” The man quickly crossed his room and pulled open a drawer on his bedside table. Digging inside, he quickly whipped out a piece of white paper – Edna’s letter. “I found this under my door when I returned from Ripon this afternoon. It hasn’t been signed and I don’t recognise the handwriting. I can’t think of anyone in this house who would write something like it.”

“Except for Edna?” Jimmy asked quietly as he forced himself to keep a neutral expression. Appearing too knowledgeable or eager could give the game away.

Branson nodded and thrust the letter out to Jimmy. “Read it.”

Jimmy gently took the letter from the man’s hands and inhaled a sharp breath to appear genuinely startled. “This is very strange. I don’t recognise this handwriting. I know Mr Carson’s, Mrs Hughes’s, Alfred’s and Mr Barrow’s. I can’t imagine Anna or Mrs Patmore or anyone else writing you such a bizarre note.”

“Exactly.” Branson agreed bitterly. He held out his hand and took the letter away from Jimmy, casting it one last longing look before he folded it back into its original shape. “Jimmy, could you be my eyes and ears downstairs for a little while? I’m confused about this, although I’m sure she means no harm. I understand what she means.”

“Mr Branson?” Jimmy questioned in a low voice. He didn’t expect Branson to be so calm.

The Irishman fixed him with a stern look. “Like I said, please don’t speak to anyone about this, especially not Barrow. I know that you’re friendly with him but if I don’t want him causing trouble for Edna. I don’t even know if she wrote it.”

Should he tell Mr Branson the truth?

“I will keep this to myself, Sir. I’ll keep my eyes open for you.” Jimmy smiled. “I quite like Edna so I don’t want her to get into trouble.”

Branson nodded and gave him a forced smile.

“It’s almost time,” Jimmy silently whispered to himself. “Hopefully she will be gone soon.”

 

Only time will tell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot will finally start to chug along nicely.  
> I really do want to drag this story out a little bit so I have room to really explore and develop Thomas and Jimmy's relationship. Jimmy isn't going to leap into Thomas's arms overnight so I'm taking my sweet time.
> 
> Also, the Duke will eventually make his appearance and unfortunately the rape will crop up too. These events will not take place for a while longer so nobody panic please.
> 
> Thank you for reading.  
> Please feel free to leave a comment if you wish, I reply to every comment I receive.


	17. As Brazen As Brass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy is in for a shock or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back again.
> 
> I'm going to bring the blackmail subplot to a conclusion hopefully in the next two chapters. I'm going to write these chapters as quickly as I can so that we can settle Jimmy's 'Edna problem' by the end of September.  
> The girl's got to go.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Beyond the distant tree line, the golden sun was slowly setting over the Yorkshire hills. Appreciating the sight, Thomas paused the admire the beautiful view before he continued to potter about his room, tidying away this and that as he hummed ‘Old King Cole’ quietly to himself. A few footsteps scurried past his door but all in all, the evening was relaxed. His days’ work was now complete, the Crawley’s had retired for the evening, except for Lord Grantham and Mr Branson who were finishing their brandy in the library and the rest of the servants were resting in the dining hall. Moments of peace were a blessing when one worked in such a large house and Thomas appreciated every calm second. As he sorted through his small collection of letters, his bedroom door suddenly burst open.

“Thomas!” Jimmy barked as he strode into his room. “You’ll never guess!”

The under butler sighed as he placed his letters back into their keepsake tin box. “Jimmy, do I need to start locking my door? I could have been getting undressed! I am actually going to take a bath in a moment,” He drawled.

The footman waved him off with a dismissive hand and took a seat in his armchair. “We’re both men here, aren’t we? It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Privacy means nothing to you, does it?” Thomas joked, also taking a seat as he perched on the edge of his bed. “Out with it then, what’s your news?”

Jimmy yawned, holding one finger up to Thomas before he answered, “Bugger me, I’m knackered. So yes anyways, Mr Branson showed me Edna’s letter! He wants me to keep an eye out, especially on her.” He watched the under butler’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Feeling pleased with himself, he flashed Thomas a smug grin.

“Well then, I didn’t expect him to actually show it to you. I thought he would just mention something about feeling a bit off, something along those lines.” Thomas confessed, giving the footman a nod. “I’m impressed.”

Jimmy’s smile widened and his face grew warm from the praise. “Cheers!”

“I spotted something as well,” Thomas smiled. “That Edna threw a nice little smile at Mr Branson and he gave her one back. It wasn’t anything too flirty but it was something.”

“She’s really after him, isn’t she?” Jimmy sighed as he shook his head, the movement gently wafting a stray curl around his eyebrows. Unknown to him, Thomas was tempted to reach out and brush the offending strand away from Jimmy’s face as the footman continued, “the poor man’s only recently lost his wife. You can see that he’s vulnerable.”

“He’s lonely and he feels out of place,” Thomas agreed. “It’s only natural. Thirsk fair is coming up this weekend, remember?”

Jimmy’s picked at a loose thread on his waistcoat as he nodded, “mmm hmm.”

Thomas gave the footman a little kick. “Why don’t you speak to Edna tomorrow? Tell her that Mr Branson spoke to you and that he asked you if she sent him that letter. Tell her that he didn’t say much but he smiled. Tell her to encourage Mr Branson to spend time with her at the fair. Get her to ask him to chaperone her on a ride or something.” He paused to let out a snort, picturing the moment in the mind. “She’ll look brazen as brass. You wait until Mrs Hughes sees, she never misses a trick!”

“Good idea,” Jimmy yawned as he nodding slowly. He twisted his sore wrists in circular motions to ease their stiffness as Thomas went on to speak, mumbling more to himself than Jimmy as he focused his attention on a passing cloud outside of his window.

“I’ll mention to Mrs Hughes that I’ve seen Edna casting a few longing glances in his direction. I’ll probably get a scolding but if our plan for the fair works, she’ll see I was right.” The under butler laced his fingers together and placed them against his lips. “I don’t think she’ll be chucked out, she’ll only get a scolding for being so familiar with Branson. We need to push the pair of them together or at least encourage Edna to take direct action.”

“That was part of the original plan,” Jimmy piped up, picking at the loose thread on his green waistcoat again.

 Thomas nodded, “Yes, it was. For now, this is the best chance we have. This week you need to concentrate on keeping Branson calm, Jimmy. Then you need to speak to Edna. Neither of them can get too suspicious.”

Jimmy laughed softly and chirped, “aye, aye Captain,” in a sing-song voice, mimicking a sailor’s stance in his seat. “I can do that, Mr Barrow.”

“Good,” Thomas affirmed, his voice full of amusement as he considered Jimmy fondly.

The younger man yawned again and slouched against the back of the armchair, smacking his lips. He noticed Thomas looking at him and he smiled but the older man turned away and stared out of the window again. Jimmy wasn’t offended, he knew that Thomas sometimes felt a little apprehensive regarding his behaviour towards him. It saddened him to know this and he wished that his friend would feel more comfortable with platonic intimacy. Jimmy didn’t mind Thomas staring a little too long or his subtle (and quite possibly unintentionally) displays of reluctance whenever they had to part so that they could get on with their work. Jimmy never wanted to leave him either and he definitely liked to watch Thomas. He could quite happily watch the man all day. Hell, Jimmy was watching him now. The pink glow from the evening sky coloured Thomas’s pale face so prettily, highlighting his cheeks with a faint blush. His cheekbones and jaw were further defined by shadowing and Jimmy was captivated by the man’s beauty. He looked like an oil painting, a Thomas Ralph Spence creation. Someone should paint him. Someone should photograph him. Then man was living, breathing art.

“You’re pretty,” he sighed before he could stop himself.

Thomas snapped out his daydream and stared at Jimmy. “Eh?” He grumbled. A quizzical frown formed on his face.

“You’re witty.” Jimmy quickly spluttered as his face turned a shocking shade of red. “I said you’re _witty_. I remembered something that you said ages ago and I spoke out loud.” He quickly gave his friend an unconvincing forced smile and tried to ignore the goose bumps that broke out across his skin.

Thomas snorted and stretched his arms backwards, leaning his weight on them. “I thought I heard you say _pretty_.”

“Nah, I said witty. You’re witty.” Jimmy insisted.

“What you blushing for then?” Thomas teased, cocking his left eyebrow.

Jimmy tutted and abruptly dismissed the joke but a smile did upturn the corners of his lips. “I suppose you’re pretty,” he smiled before adding hotly, “You know you are at least! I caught you checking your reflection in the mirror earlier.”

Thomas laughed and smirked, “I need to make sure I’m presentable. An under butler has to look his best. Besides, you can talk! Mr I-constantly-flick-my-hair-this-way-and-that-way.” He even gave a pompous demonstration to prove his point, flipping his own hair exaggeratedly.

Jimmy stuck two fingers up in a crude gesture and the pair dissolved into a fit of giggles. For another half an hour, the two men laughed and joked about anything and everything until the warm evening sky turned black. Biding Thomas goodbye, Jimmy slipped into his bedroom and soon settled himself into his bed with a sigh. Tomorrow, he would need to speak to Edna. God help him.

 

* * *

 

 The morning came far too soon. At breakfast he tried to catch the maid’s eye but she was too busy chatting to the day maids and Anna. From then on, Edna was always busy. She barely sat down to take short break with the rest of the women and whenever she did stop, she was surrounded by other people so Jimmy couldn’t speak to her alone. It would be inappropriate for him to wander up and ask to speak to her in private as that could be a cause for concern. Thomas said it himself, Mrs Hughes never missed a trick and everyone was already suspicious of him ever since he had upset Ivy. God help him if Mrs Patmore thought he was trying to mess around with another servant girl! She’d be after him with her carving knife! It wasn’t until late afternoon that Jimmy was finally able to corner Edna in the servant’s stairwell.

“ _Edna_ ,” he hissed as he hurried after her.

The maid turned, startled. When she saw who had called her, she frowned and tipped her chin up. “Well, well,” she said quietly, “Can I help you?”

Jimmy urgently whispered, “I need to speak to you… _privately_.”

The maid’s eyebrows almost flew into her cap but she nodded silently and followed Jimmy with comment as they silently crept into the boot room. As soon as Jimmy shut the door, he rounded on her.

“Mr Branson spoke to me yesterday when I assisted him before dinner. He showed me a letter that was likely written by you!” He began, feeling smug as he watched her face turn pale. “It’s fine, don’t panic. He didn’t say much about it but he smiled. He wants me to keep an eye on you but he told me not to tell anyone.”

“Really?” She stuttered as her eyes widened. This was the first time that she displayed genuine emotion.

Jimmy nodded and even offered her a small, warm smile. “I think he’s a bit keen on you. He’s likely lonely and all that…and you’re quite pretty so –“

Her sneer returned as she purred, “I’m surprised you noticed. As pretty as Mr Barrow, am I?” She laughed coldly before lowering her voice. “Speaking of him, he’s not so sure of himself these days, is he? He’s not the proud, strutting peacock now. Your little stunt seems to have knocked him down a peg. Even Anna thinks he’s been quiet.”

Jimmy’s smile immediately fell and his fists balled. If she wasn’t a damn woman, so help him he would have been tempted to strike her. “Now look here,” he started before the maid interrupted him.

“Never mind him, he’s your problem.” She snapped. “So Mr Branson wasn’t angry? I wasn’t sure you see, that’s why I left my name off. He’s been smiling at me since our last conversation. We’re friends now, you see.”

“How nice,” Jimmy said through gritted teeth, still seething from her comments about Thomas.

The maid smirked and gave him a light shrug. “He’s been a gentleman, a better one than most. He doesn’t belong with _them_ , anyone can see that.”

Jimmy scoffed and had to turn away from her in frustration. He began to pace as he questioned, “So you’ve been having some cosy chats? Are you not concerned about his daughter? That lot as you so kindly referred to are her family. He won’t take her away from them.”

“He might,” Edna smiled. “He’s been considering leaving, you know. He’s out of place. It’s ridiculous, he can’t relate to them.”

“He can relate to you, can he?” Jimmy scoffed. She was unreliable, he knew it but he had to take her word as gospel for now.

“Yes, he can. He _does_. Besides, little Sybil will need a mother.” Edna persisted.

“Imagine that!” Jimmy hissed, “I can’t see you being mother of the year.”

The maid took a step towards him, backing him into the corner of the room. “He’s one of _us_ , not one of them. He doesn’t fit in with them. He’s still practically an employee; he’s the estate’s agent! I asked him to accompany us to Thirsk fair this weekend and he has agreed. He is joining us, the _employees_.”

Jimmy could only gape at her before he whispered, “Mr Branson is coming with us to the fair? You already asked him? What, is he not taking the family car or something with the Crawley’s?”

“No,” she nodded, eyeing him suspiciously. “He’s coming _with us_. Who knows if the rest of them are even going? Tom feels uncomfortable eating upstairs. He’s going to join _us_ for dinner tomorrow.”

“You what?” Jimmy cried, bewildered by what he hearing. He exhaled sharply through his nose as the maid moved away from him to walk to the door. “Half my job’s done then,” he breathed.

“What?” Edna snapped, glaring at him as she placed a hand on the door knob.

Jimmy shook his head, “I just meant that I was actually going to try to talk Mr Branson into chaperoning you to the fair.”

The maid stared at him for a full three seconds before she quietly whispered, “Were you now? Well thank you, Jimmy. You can play your part well, can’t you?”

“Oh don’t you bloody know it.” He swallowed, wishing he was as confident as he sounded. Scratching the back of his neck, still in shock from what Edna had just told him, he watched her slip out of the room, closing the door behind her. Thomas’s head was going to spin when Jimmy told him about the new information he recieved but unfortunately, he was not able to speak to the under butler before he had to attend to Mr Branson.

Assisting the Irishman with his cufflinks was no easy task on this night as the man kept practically hopping from foot to foot with nerves. Jimmy had to politely ask him to keep still. Somehow he managed to dress him and he had to admit, the end result was rather lovely as Tom Branson look dapper as ever.

“Sir,” Jimmy spoke up, “before I leave, I was wondering if you were alright? After yesterday with that letter and what not.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” The Irishman lied.

“Mr Branson, sir,” Jimmy sighed, “I’m sorry to be so intrusive and to keep asking you personal questions that aren’t really my business but…are you happy?”

The Irishman did not answer, he only stared at Jimmy with a slack mouth. Despite his shock, a wistful glint shone in his eye and his eyebrows were knitted so closely together, Jimmy was reminded of an illustration he had once seen of a hawk. No, the man was not happy.

“We’re all concerned, us servants.” Jimmy went on; keeping his voice calm and level. His exterior was cool but in his chest, his heart was pounding so rapidly a silly part of him worried if Tom Branson could hear it beating.

He watched Branson's shoulders slump as he collapsed onto the edge of his bed in defeat. He looked so downcast, Jimmy was tempted to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“You know,” Branson began in a flat tone. “I’m just not sure where I belong, James. I was once the chauffer here and then I became a part of the family - except I wasn’t, not really. Sybil and I had plans to leave for Ireland. She would have done well there I think, she had a Celtic heart in her.”

Jimmy wished that he had known Lady Sybil as well as Thomas so that he could offer the man a better, more comforting answer. “I’m sure she did have. Everyone liked her very much, especially Mr Barrow.”

Branson laughed at this. Then he laughed more. He kept on chuckling, shaking his head before he looked Jimmy in the eye again. “It just goes a show; the woman who melted the heart of Thomas Barrow had to be a special.” Branson smiled proudly as his eye beamed at the ceiling. Perhaps he thought he was gazing at his wife in heaven.

“Yes, Mr Branson.” Jimmy replied with a polite nod. He smiled but Branson’s words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Was it any wonder that Thomas kept to himself all the time when this was the kind of jokes and jibes he heard, day in, day out. “If you don’t mind me saying though sir…Thom – Mr Barrow does have a heart. He just…doesn’t show it much. At least not to everyone.” His cheeks flushed and he felt a little embarrassed but he wanted to defend his friend - that’s what mates did. Branson looked a little guilty but before he could speak, Jimmy quickly added, “I just think that Lady Sybil was lucky to have had so much of his trust. It really does say a lot about her.”

Branson just nodded but he averted his eyes, casting his gaze downwards. “I heard that you two were friends now. It was good what he did for you at the fair. He saved my Sybbie from that awful nanny as well.”

“ _You better damn well remember that_ ,” Jimmy thought bitterly to himself as he carefully picked up Mr Branson’s jacket, folding it over his arm. “Yes, well he’s a good man underneath his…well he’s just a good man. Sometimes.” He smiled when he heard the Irishman chuckle and then remembered that he was running out of time. Needing to get back on track, he rushed, “I heard that you would be joining us at the Thirsk fair, sir?”

Branson nodded and Jimmy was relieved to see that some light had returned to his eyes. “Aye, I’ll be there.”

Whether the man meant to slip further into his natural Irish brogue, Jimmy had no clue but it was not his place to comment. “It’ll be nice to see you there then sir. Good evening,” Jimmy smiled, bowing slightly before he left the room. Hurrying along the corridor, he wondered if he was doomed to live with Edna forever. He was not sure if Tom would actually leave Downton, not when his young daughter was so loved by the Crawley’s, her family. How on earth would he behave at the fair? Was he courting Edna in some way or was she just pushing herself onto him? Would Branson run off with Edna? Would he marry her and stay here, both of them remaining in the village? In the house? His head started to swirl. It was all becoming too much for him to handle. Edna was going whether she and Tom bloody Branson liked it or not.

 

* * *

 

 There was a bit of a to-do at supper. Alfred had managed to trip Jimmy with his big, stinking feet and the salad bowl was sent flying, not only covering Jimmy with greens but one piece of lettuce managed to land on Mrs Crawley. Lady Mary had snorted into her wine but thankfully Lady Rose, sweet girl that she was, managed to soothe Mr Carson somewhat with her gentle smile and optimism. Jimmy was just thankful that the blasted piece of lettuce had landed on Mrs Crawley and not the Dowager as Carson would never have recovered from the shame. Lord and Lady Grantham had been nervous but Mrs Crawley shushed them and expressed her concern for Jimmy, telling him that she hoped he had not sprained his ankle. She also asked Carson not to be harsh on the footman, telling him that everyone stumbles once in a while.

“No harm was done, Carson,” she had smiled gently as she removed the piece of lettuce from her hair.

Dinner proceeded to go from bad to worse as Lady Mary and Lady Edith began to bicker, Lady Grantham barely coped and the Dowager only served to add fuel to the fire with her never ending snips. Then Alfred spilt half a bottle of wine onto Lady Rose’s lap and Mr Carson almost went into cardiac arrest. As the room descended into chaos and unstoppable giggles on Lady Rose’s part, Mr Branson remained miserable throughout. Lord Grantham had put a hand to his forehead and unsurprisingly, the entire family retired to their beds a little earlier than usual. Once out of ear shot, tucked away in Carson’s office, Jimmy and Alfred didn’t half receive a firm dressing down. Alfred almost bubbled.

The two footmen then sat in disgrace at the top of the table during the servant’s meal and Edna had decided to sneer at Jimmy whenever she had the chance. He could have wrung her neck.

“Tonight was a complete and utter disaster, not to mention an embarrassment! I won’t be able to look Mrs Crawley in the eye for weeks.” Mr Carson thundered as he tore his beef in half. “I have half a mind to stop you two from attending the fair this weekend! You are both lucky that Mr Branson specifically requested for all staff members to be able to attend.”

At this comment, Jimmy saw Edna privately smile into her glass of water.

Once the dinner plates had been cleared away, the rest of the servants began to amuse themselves. Thomas sat and read a book in his rocking chair, Mr Bates and Mr Mosley began a game of chess and everyone else chatted merrily. Daisy tried to encourage the footman to join in but neither Jimmy nor Alfred had to heart. Both men eventually gave up and trudged up the stairs to their rooms. Alfred refused to look at Jimmy as he past him but it was just as well as Jimmy wanted nothing more than to push the great lummox down the stairs. He threw his bedroom door open, supremely unconcerned when it crashed into his wall and threw himself onto his bed. For good measure, he gave his mattress a good, hard kick as he shouted abuse into his pillow, wishing it was Alfred or better yet, Carson.

_Knock knock._

 

At the sound of the light tapping, Jimmy practically howled in anger. “Alfred, go away! I’m not in the mood!” He shouted, his voice muffled by his bed.

“It’s Thomas.” The voice outside of his door replied.

“Oh. Well then you can come in.” Jimmy grumbled as he raised himself from the bed. He turned to see Thomas sliding through the door with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Dinner was a disaster then I take it?” he asked gently.

“You could say that.” Jimmy huffed, flopping back down onto his bed, closing his eyes. When didn’t hear Thomas didn’t move, he patted the side of his bed. “Sit next to me.”

“Very well,” Thomas accepted as he walked over to Jimmy’s bed and took on seat on its edge.

The footman blinked his eyes open and stared up at him. They both sat in silence before Jimmy sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes with his fists. Had he been braver, Thomas might have tried to touch him to offer comfort.

“We’ve all had rough nights,” Thomas finally spoke. “You know William, the footman who died? He once spilt an entire bowl of onion soul over a visiting Lord. I can’t remember the bloke’s name. Mr Carson almost passed out, I tell you. It meant I was the golden boy for a little while but even I felt for the poor sod, not that I would admit it. William went bright red and his hands kept shaking. Lady Grantham didn’t stop simpering and apologising for nearly an hour. The Lord, whoever he was, was a kind soul though and he was very patient with William.” He paused, reliving the memory. “He said it wasn’t the lad’s fault and that accidents happen. Basically, Mr Carson survived that. He can survive you knocking a tiny bit of lettuce onto Mrs Crawley. She wasn’t drenched in onion soup. Alfred spilling wine onto Lady Rose though…well that’s his problem. You’re more or less in the clear.”

“My accident was bloody Alfred’s fault as well! Him and his bloody boat feet!” Jimmy snapped, glaring at the ceiling with narrow eyes.

Thomas chuckled and gave him a playful shove. “Oh come on, just let it go now. It’s over and done with. Did you speak to Edna?”

“Hmpf,” Jimmy huffed, inhaling loudly through his nose. “I did. Oh!” He looked back up at Thomas again and gave him a recount of his conversation with Edna in the boot room.

“She asked him to go to the fair? And invited him to eat with _us_?” Thomas repeated in shocked disbelief. “Christ, I knew she was headstrong but bloody hell, run the man over with a damn tractor why don’t you? No wonder he’s so…so off.”

Jimmy shrugged, “Branson doesn’t seem to mind too much you know. Maybe he does want her.”

“He’s lonely and she’s a pretty blonde throwing herself at him.” Thomas replied bitterly, adamantly refusing to believe the Irishman truly held a candle for such a devious cow. “The man’s a radical at heart, he gets carried away. She’s playing him for a fool.”

“I think you’re defending Lady Sybil.” Jimmy muttered.

The under butler froze. He stared into Jimmy’s face, completely mute until he furiously crossed his arms. “Well still, I just can’t see him truly wanting _her_.”

“Can we not talk about it?” Jimmy interrupted, placing a hand on Thomas’s thigh. “I’m absolutely shattered Thomas and I don’t have the energy to really think about all of it.”

The under butler sighed and nodded, accepting defeat. As Jimmy took his hand away, Thomas pulled his cigarette packet from his pocket and offered it to Jimmy, who immediately shook his head. Shrugging, Thomas popped one between his lips and flicked open his lighter. As he inhaled, he instantly felt his whole body relax, soothed by the nicotine. He shut his eyes and basked in the warmth of the cigarette’s smoke. The burning sensation that filled his chest his was heaven to him. Dr Clarkson could squawk until he turned blue about how dangerous his obsessive smoking habit was but nothing would stop him from smoking. As he sat and swayed slightly from side to side with closed eyes, happy to feel a familiar smooth cylinder between his fingers, he was unaware that Jimmy was watching him.

“You really love your bloody fags, don’t you?” the blonde noted, his tone both disapproving and amused.

Thomas shrugged but didn’t open his eyes. He just continued to take deep drags from his cigarette, over and over. Soon, the two men heard footsteps outside of the door as voices bid each other goodnight. They had a chuckle when they overheard Mr Carson complaining to someone about the whereabouts of Mr Barrow. One by one they all faded away into silence until it was clear that the only people still awake were themselves. Thomas had long since finished his cigarette and he contemplated lighting another but he supposed that he should go back to his own room now. Before he was able to stand and wish Jimmy goodnight, a warm weight pressed down onto his thigh again.

“Don’t go yet,” Jimmy yawned as he stretched his left out, ghosting his fingers across the top his bed frame.

Thomas shook his head, “It’s late and I want to sleep,” but he made no effort to stand or to remove Jimmy’s hand.

The footman gave his leg a quick squeeze and whispered, “Stay with me again? Like when we last slept together. It was nice –“

“No.” Thomas refused bluntly.

“I don’t mind,” Jimmy yawned again as he stretched his whole body, groaning slightly. He yawned again, closing his eyes before he reached for Thomas’s leg again. “We can talk –“

A felt his mattress shift at the loss of extra weight. Opening his eyes, Jimmy watched Thomas straighten his waistcoat, flatting it against his chest. The man wasn’t looking at him and his lips were set into a tight, grim line, a stark contrast to his previous mild smile.

“What’s the matter?” Jimmy asked him, confused.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed with you.” Thomas whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jimmy bolted upwards and tried to grab the tailcoats of Thomas’s jacket but the fabric slipped from his fingers. He reached forward again but the man was a centimetre away from his door.

“Thomas, _wait_ ,” he called in a hushed voice. “What have you got a face on for?”

“ _A what?_ ” Thomas hissed, frowning at Jimmy.

The footman scowled slightly and shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve got a face on, like you’re upset or something. Is it because I asked you to sleep with me?”

The under butler visibly winched, gripping the door handle firmly. His heart was galloping in his chest and he felt a fool.

“You were fine the first time. Honestly, bairns sleep together. I’ve had to bunk with a mate before.” Jimmy urged. “What if you get caught sneaking out my room anyway? Stay here for a little bit longer. You don’t have to kip here then if you’re getting your knickers in a twist over it.” He tried to smile but Thomas just glared at him. He stood by the door and fixed Jimmy with a cold, hard stare. He had never received such a harsh look before, not even from Carson. Silently he wondered, _“is he angry because I mentioned knickers?_ ” Jimmy wondered, swallowing a large lump in his throat.

The tension that follow could have been cut with a knife. Neither man spoke until finally, Thomas bid Jimmy goodnight and promptly left the room, leaving a confused, guilt ridden Jimmy alone in the dark.

“Sorry Thomas,” he whispered to the closed door, his voice thick and croaky, “I’m a clod.”

 

Sleep did not come easy for Jimmy that night. He was plagued with terrible dreams, all of them revolving around Thomas. His first dream had started quite pleasantly as he found himself lying on a soft, fluffy cloud once again. Thomas was sitting next to him humming a sweet tune, smiling when suddenly their cloud split in two. Helpless and confused, he watched Thomas’s cloud float higher into the air. He tried to reach his arms out to pull it down but the white mist slid through his fingers. He suddenly began to move, falling downwards at such a high speed he couldn’t breathe.

His second nightmare saw Thomas being swept out to sea in a small, rickety fishing boat. He should never have been in a fishing boat, he couldn’t swim. Jimmy tried to push through the waves strong currents to save him but the waves were too strong and he was exhausted. He could only watch a large, gleaming ship steered towards them. A man with a tall, muscular build leapt over its side and dove into the ocean, resurfacing at the side of Thomas’s boat. He pulled Thomas out of his fishing boat, pulling him into the water with him. Jimmy screamed, terrified that the man was going to drown Thomas. Instead, he helped Thomas swim to the side of the large ship where a long, thick rope was thrown overboard. Jimmy cried, shouted for Thomas to swim towards him. He tried to splash, to kick his feet faster but the water around him thickened and turned into some sort of quicksand. The muscular man manoeuvred Thomas onto his shoulder and grasped onto the rope. He began to scale the side of the boat, climbing upwards until he reached the top deck where gently lowered Thomas to his feet. Jimmy had screamed again, desperate to be rescued along with Thomas. He waved his arm above his head and yelled until his throat cracked, leaving him mute. Thomas did not look in his direction or search for him. He was staring trance-like at his saviour, not caring that Jimmy was dying. The muscular man took a step forward, moving his body closer to Thomas’s. He pulled Thomas into a passionate embrace and Jimmy began to thrash, kicking his limbs wildly against the thick water. The stranger leant even closer and crashed his lips against Thomas’s, putting on a damn good show for Jimmy, who was struggling to keep his head above the murky water. The man’s large hands slid down his friend’s body, stopping at his thigh and Jimmy tried to scream once more, to call for Thomas. He prayed that someone would rescue him from the sticky waters but he could see no other sailors. Tears slid down his cheeks as he realised that he would not be saved. On the boat, Thomas was hoisted up by the stranger. The man wrapped his friend’s legs around his hips as they continued to kiss. His friend was then carried away, taken out of sight.

Everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas will DEFINITELY speak to Jimmy soon. The boy is a fool.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Thank you again for every kudos and every comment. They mean so much. :)


	18. A Lavender Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twas the night before Thirsk Fair when Thomas Barrow bathed in lavender salts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a very busy and slightly traumatic month.  
> Why on earth are so many people having Autumnal/Winter weddings this year? For god's sake, we all have presents to buy!  
> Also, why are insurers so difficult and greedy. Oh yeah, they are insurance companies.  
> Bah humbug.
> 
> I'm sorry that this chapter is a very short filler chapter.  
> What with everything going on in my life, I've barely had the time to write.
> 
> I am determined to get back on track with this story.  
> I'm starting to LOATHE it, which is frustrating and I wish I could re-write the damn bastardly thing but I've come this far so I'm not turning back now.
> 
> Thomas and Jimmy will eventually wind up together in the end. We'll get there.

If there was one thing that Thomas greatly appreciated it was a hot bath and if there was one thing he so desperately needed, it was relaxation. Hot baths were relaxing so Thomas opted to have a hot bath before bed. Months ago, Thomas had treated himself to some lavender bath salts but had forgotten all about them. Now, lying still in the water, singing quietly to himself with an arm dangling over the side of the bath, orchestrating a nursey rhyme with his lit cigarette, he tried to relax.

“Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry,”

Pausing to take a drag from his cigarette, he closed his eyes and exhaled. The bitter nicotine mixed with the sweet lavender steam that rose from the bathwater, creating a strange odour that somehow seemed familiar. For some reason, he was reminded of his mother, although he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she had smelled of lavender and fags at some point.

“When the boys came out to play,” he sung quietly, “Georgie Porgie ran away.”

Taking another drag from his cigarette, he flicked the ashes onto the floor. There would be a small dusting of ash on the tiles but he didn’t care, he would clean the mess up afterwards.

“Jimmy’s a bit of a Georgie Porgie,” he muttered. Was that all he thought about? Jimmy Kent?

No matter how much he tried to deny and ignore it, Thomas’s relationship with Jimmy had changed. Ever since he rescued drunken, staggering Jimmy from the thugs at the fair, he had caught the footman looking at him, staring when he thought Thomas wouldn’t notice. His obvious stares had frightened him for a while. It was unnerving to know that the man who had loathe him for a period of time suddenly respected and liked him again within the blink of an eye. Jimmy had looked murderous when he screamed in Thomas’s face during the incident Thomas christened ‘The Night’. He should never have kissed Jimmy and he knew that. Afterwards, he felt sick knowing that he had lost his one friend because of his own stupidity and gullibility. Then, he somehow went from bogey man to saviour. Then he started receiving the looks. He had assumed that Jimmy must have been ridden with guilt or that he was simply inquisitive, which was understandable as Thomas was the first homosexual Jimmy had met. Then things changed again. Their entire relationship changed so quickly, Thomas still wasn’t able to wrap his head around the events. He thought his mind had been playing tricks, imagining fantastical scenarios where something sparked between Jimmy and himself. He had made such errors in judgement before, firstly with Kemal Pamuk, who could have ruined him, then Jimmy. He could have been arrested, doomed to face incarceration or worse. Hell, he could have been hung! The feelings he harboured for his handsome friend had to be controlled and hidden. Should anything else happen again, he knew that neither Lord Grantham nor Mr Bates could save him. Would they even want to? Still, against his better judgement, Thomas knew his relationship with Jimmy could no longer be labelled as platonic. Jimmy had shared Thomas’s bed and they had slept peacefully together, curled against one another like pups. Jimmy had made inquiries about his private life and homosexuality. He seemed jealous every time Thomas received a letter from John Brady. An unopened letter from John currently lay on his desk, actually. He had not yet told Jimmy that he received another letter from him. Why? Was it because Jimmy had kissed Thomas when he was drunk? Jimmy had laughed about that kiss, brushed it off as though it was nothing, as though all mates kissed each other. Then there was the night in the servant’s hall. Sometimes he wondered if he had dreamt the moment when Jimmy had held him close and kissed him so passionately. The footman had lain on top of him and ran his hands all over Thomas’s body, all over his arse. The memory made Thomas’s stomach tighten and he could taste bile in his mouth.

He could hear Jimmy’s words now.

“I can see why your John fella likes you so much.”

“You’re quite pretty for a man.”

“Look, those eyelashes!”

A part of Thomas wished his could push Jimmy away forever. His life would be easier if James Kent disappeared. He didn’t need this, all of this stress and uncertainty. He didn’t want to be messed about or to be a trial lover for a confused, stupid, selfish boy. He was no experiment or curiosity.  
In desperate attempt to rid his mind of Jimmy, he threw himself backwards, submerging his whole body under the water. Jimmy’s voice faded away, drowned out by the sound of Thomas’s heartbeat that roared in his ears. The water crashed against the porcelain tub and spilled over the sides. Thomas did not give a damn about the tiled floor. He needed to hide from the world for a moment, to block out everything that lay beyond the bathtub. Tomorrow he was to attend Thirsk Fair with Jimmy and Tom and Edna and everyone else. Ever since the formation of his and Jimmy’s plan, Thomas had felt anxious. His anxiety had been building and building and building. Now, under the water, he had a choice: he could either drown himself or face tomorrow. Tomorrow was practically Judgement Day.

“Always one for dramatics you are,” he thought to himself.

For Jimmy, tomorrow would determine whether he was doomed to live under Edna Braithwaite’s thumb for the rest of his days at Downton. The threat of blackmail and false exposure would hang around his neck like a noose. Jimmy may swear that he and Thomas were friends, that they always would be mates but Thomas knew better. For Thomas, tomorrow would determine whether his budding friendship with Jimmy would last. Jimmy was as insecure as he was cocksure of himself. Thomas had noted in the past that he and Jimmy both liked to appear very sure of themselves but what lay underneath told a different story. Jimmy disguised his insecurities under a glossy veneer of arrogance and vanity. He flirted, he joked and he swaggered about the abbey like a prized peacock. He desperately relied on compliments from others to boost his ego but now that Thomas had grown close to him, he could see the cracks in his shining armour. If any rumours regarding Jimmy’s sexuality came to light, Thomas would surely lose his friend. News travelled fast within the abbey and Grantham village. It was a known fact that Jimmy and Thomas were close and whispers about an incident that had taken place at Downton had spread like wildfire throughout the village. If anyone suspected or believed outright that Jimmy was not the ladies’ man he made himself out to be he would be crushed; mortified beyond all belief.  
He knew that it would be sickening to watch Daisy and Ivy frolic about the fair without a care in the world. Ivy would likely make eyes at Jimmy too, silently begging him to take her arm or to take her on the carousel. Anna and Bates would wander about with linked arms and smiling faces. Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore would happily sit together and chat, content in each other’s company. The only person who would be more miserable than Thomas would likely be Alfred as the boy would probably sulk after Ivy all day, pining for her like an abandoned dog.

Thomas closed his eyes and wished that he didn’t have to worry about this. He wished that he could turn back time so he could be a footman again. He missed those days now. His life was simpler before the war.

Eventually, the water cooled and Thomas had to haul himself out of the tub lest he froze to death. Once the bathroom was tidied and the mirrors wipes down, the under butler crept to his bedroom. As he pulled on his pyjamas, he caught sight of his small alarm clock. It was one o’clock in the morning. In a few hours, he would have to get up. By this time tomorrow night, Thomas may have lost a friend. He felt sick.

“Edna, you’re a spiteful cow,” he whispered darkly, knowing his comment was hypocritical considering his own past but the fact still stood; she was wicked. “We’ll get you tomorrow,” he warned the room, “that’s a promise.”

Pulling back his quilt, Thomas climbed into his bed.

“She mustn’t love Mr Branson, not truly. She’s after the good life, a life free of servitude,” he muttered, continuing his rant.

“Didn’t you do the same with the Duke?” replied his conscience.

“Shut up,” he snapped. He was about to argue that he had loved Philip when he remembered he was alone. “Fantastic. I’m arguing with myself.”

Not even the voice in his head answered. He looked about the room, noticing the strange shadow his wardrobe cast against the wall.

“I’m cold,” he whispered out loud.

Sighing, Thomas rolled onto his side and forced his mind to be silent. Soon, he was surrounded by silence. No owls hooted outside, no floorboards creaked. He could hear no distant snores, footsteps or muted chatter from the hall boys. The house was quiet and his bed was slowly warmed by his body heat. He was finally able to drift off to sleep.

 

 

He dreamt of a deer, running away from the bright headlights of an automobile. The animal seemed to move in slow motion, as if time passed at a slower pace in the dreamland.  
The strange vision did not wake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this teeny, tiny chapter.  
> I'll see you all again very soon, hopefully.


	19. Off To The Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The servants (and Tom Branson) arrive at the fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm sort of back...
> 
> I apologise for this chapter being so brief.  
> I will pick up this story after Christmas and the chapter will be longer.

“Look at her, she keeps gawking at him.” Jimmy muttered as he glared at Enda. It was true that the blonde maid kept glancing in Tom Branson’s direction and it was making Jimmy’s stomach turn. “Is nobody else noticing this?”

“Apparently not so keep your voice down.” Thomas hissed.

Thomas and Jimmy were trudging behind everyone else as they made their way to Thirsk Fair. Tom Branson had offered to drive members of the group, which had been suspicious. Thomas had noticed Mrs Hughes’s narrowing her eyes in Edna’s direction but she remained silence.

“Mrs Hughes is definitely keeping an eye on her.” Thomas said quietly, watching Alfred out of the corner of his eye to make sure he wasn’t eavesdropping. “Just keep quiet and put a smile on your face, we’re supposed to be happy about getting a day off.”

“Pff,” Jimmy huffed. “You’ve got a face like a wet Monday. You smile!”

Thomas just smirked. “Apparently, I always look like a wet Monday so I look the way I always do.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and moodily adjusted his cap. He glanced at Thomas and caught the man lighting yet another cigarette. He wondered if Thomas smoked more when he was stressed. Thomas smoked an obscene amount regardless of his mood so perhaps the man just smoked whenever he fancied a fag. He kept watching Thomas, fascinated by the smoke that ghosted over his red lips. Normally Jimmy wasn’t keen on smokers, he had always hated the smell but Thomas was a good smoker; it suited him.

“Jimmy, will you come on the carousel with me and Daisy?” Ivy asked, looking at him over his shoulder. She quickly glanced at Thomas and gave him a nervous smile. “Er, you could join us as well, Mr Barrow.”

Thomas snorted and smiled to himself. “I never set foot on a carousel as a lad and I don’t plan on starting now.”

Ivy tutted and frowned at him. "Oh, Mr Barrow, don't you ever have any fun? You're not an old man yet. Adults enjoy carousels too. You never even come to the dances!”

"Not my idea of a fun night," Thomas said firmly as he pulled his fag from between his lips.

As Ivy sighed in defeat and shook her head, Daisy stopped in her tracks and turned to face the under butler. “You danced with me, Mr Barrow. Don’t you remember us doing the grizzly bear? You enjoyed that and you were a good dancer. You always dance at the servant’s balls.”

Jimmy couldn't be arsed to listen to everyone twittering on about nothing, not when he was in such a fettle. He didn’t want to go on the stupid carousel with them either. Ignoring his colleagues, he stomped past the group and spotted the liquor stall further ahead of him. If there was one thing he needed, it was a drink. The loud chatter from the servants behind him faded as he hurried forwards.

“We all dance at the servant’s ball.” Thomas retorted, slowly losing his patience. He was surprised to see that Jimmy was rushing off, leaving him behind.

“Mrs Patmore was right, you’re an impossible man.” Daisy frowned, indignant at Thomas’s callous attitude. She often found herself frustrated with how temperamental the under butler was. “Come on Ivy, let’s see if we can win something in a game.”

Alfred gave Thomas a look of disbelief and marched ahead to catch up with the girls. Edna and Tom were further ahead and had clearly been listening to their conversation as Thomas heard Edna laughing, whispering to Tom that when it came to Thomas Barrow, she’d seen more life in a tramp’s vest. As far as Thomas was concerned, they could all get stuffed. He felt rather put out but Thomas decided he would keep his chin up. Perhaps if he put on a show and kept himself in a mellow mood, he would be able to speak to Edna and Tom at some point. For now, he should find Jimmy.

 

* * *

 

 

It took Thomas all of five minutes to realise that Jimmy was likely in the drinks tent…and he was correct. After the last disastrous outing that involved Jimmy and alcohol, Thomas took it upon himself to drag Jimmy out, with the help of a local farmhand who had also been present at the last fair. Jimmy had huffed and puffed but thankfully he didn’t make too much of a fuss.

“Honestly lad, you’re a liability. Thought you servants were civilised and that,” the farmhand had teased as he released Jimmy.

“Yeah well, we only get let out every so often.” Jimmy grumbled. “A man can’t enjoy himself these days.”

“Shut up and come with me to see Alfred,” Thomas said calmly as he pushed Jimmy forwards. He threw a smile at the farmhand and tipped his head respectfully. “Cheers.”

As he and Jimmy walked away from the liquor stalls, Jimmy kept shooting Thomas irritated glances. Thomas ignored him until he received nine dirty looks.

“What?” Thomas wondered. “You know you’re bad with your drink.

Jimmy made an exasperated sound before he snapped, “did you fancy him?”

“Who?” Thomas almost shouted. He looked around, confused before he asked, “what, the farmhand?” Remember they were in public, he quickly hissed, “and keep your voice down!”

Jimmy slowed his pace and leaned his head closer towards Thomas as he whispered, “well did you? He wasn’t bad looking and he kept looking at you when you came over, then jumped in to help shove me away. Do you know him?” Before Thomas could answer, he quickly added, “wait, have you seen him before? Have you met him somewhere?”

Thomas blinked three times before he replied, “what? No Jimmy, honestly! Do you think I automatically fancy every man I speak to?”

“No, I was just wondering since he was happy enough to jump in straight away –“

“What are you two bickering about?”

The two men turned to find Mrs Patmore and Mrs Hughes walking alongside them. Mrs Patmore was carrying a small paper bag and her cheeks seemed rosier than normal.

“Oh,” Thomas started, surprised by their sudden appearance. “Good afternoon Mrs Patmore, Mrs Hughes. We were just discussing something we read in the newspaper. We have differing opinions on politics.” Silently, he praised himself for his quick thinking.

Mrs Patmore gave him a look and shook her head. “Politics. What do you two know about politics. You’re as bad as our Daisy!”

Thomas and Mrs Patmore exchanged banter for a few moments as they men and woman walked alongside his each other. Jimmy zoned in and out of their conversation but found himself too distracted and anxious to listen. His eyes darted around the fair, trying to spot Tom and Edna. They were nowhere to be seen.

“Mr Barrow, you cheeky heathen!” Mrs Patmore scolded Thomas, smacking him lightly on the arm.

Suddenly Jimmy spotted Edna, Tom and Daisy. They were watching Alfred playing a round of bowls. Edna kept laughing and touching Tom’s elbow, a move that was far too forward for a maid to make towards a member of her employer’s family. He glared in her direction when he suddenly felt a light tap on his arm. He turned and found Mrs Hughes was looking at him, concern written across his weathered features.

“You seem a little glum today James.” She noted. When she received no reply, she gave his arm another pat.

To his left, Thomas glanced at Jimmy and Mrs Hughes. He saw that they were both watching Edna and Tom Branson carefully. If there was hope to be found, Edna would not remain at Downton for much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bored with Edna, I confess it.
> 
> I'm going to kick her out asap so I can concentrate solely on Thomas and Jimmy's relationship again.  
> I wish I had come up with a more imaginative sub-plot.


End file.
